Leah supplied Claire’s address, thanked Marilyn, and disconnected.

Summit Road was on the outskirts of town. Depending on how severe the crash was, that emergency might take precedence over Claire’s emergency.

She dialed Sebastian. It was 4:40. He was likely on the road back to Misty River since he’d anticipated that he’d be home for dinner.

He didn’t pick up. She tried again.

No answer.

She called Ben. His line rang and rang. She left a brief message, but halfway through remembered his baseball team practiced on Thursday afternoons.

Anxiety scratched the inside of her lungs. She was burning time sitting here, time that might be precious to Claire. She should have done more for Claire before now. Why hadn’t she done more?

She called Connor. No answer.

Sebastian had suggested she reach out to Ben’s dad if she needed reinforcements for a visit to Claire’s house. But she’d only met Hersh on a handful of occasions. She didn’t have his number in her phone.

She started her car. Read Claire’s message again. Tried calling the girl. Sent another text.

Are you all right?

No scrolling dots.

She’d told Sebastian she would not go alone to Claire’s house. But what choice did she have?

Worry fused with the responsibility of this, sickening her. How was she supposed to justify doing nothing when she might be the only one Claire had contacted? The only one who knew Claire and her siblings were in trouble?

She drove toward Claire’s, arguing with herself, trying to formulate a strategy.

When she came to a stop in front of Claire’s house, the structure looked cold and still. It could be that fury was snarling off its leash indoors, scaring children, hurting children. But from her vantage point, there was no sign of that. The last time she’d come here, she’d glimpsed the interior of the house through the downstairs windows. This time, drawn curtains guarded the family’s secrets.

A potentially expired canister of pepper spray languished in the bottom of her purse. She dug it out, stuck it in her back pocket, and let herself from her car. Her outfit—skinny jeans, white top, emerald cardigan—had felt entirely right this morning but felt entirely wrong now. Too frivolous. The soles of her ballet flats slipped against slick concrete as she made her way to the front door.

Sebastian had spent most of the drive back to Misty River on the phone. First, he’d spoken to the intensivist on shift about Isabella’s care. Then Dr. Nelson, who’d oversee her progress. Then Megan and Timothy, who’d contacted him with questions.

It wasn’t until he stopped at a light several miles outside of town that he realized he’d missed two calls from Leah. He dialed her. No response, so he texted her.