His charges zipped straight toward the large window at the opposite end of the long hallway. He turned to follow. “Slow down, Arnie. Easy, buddy; you don’t have to win the race your first time out.”

D.D. decided it was safer to stand with her back against the wall. So did Alex. They’d made it through the locked front doors into the lobby, then through the next set of locked doors connecting the reception area to the unit. Now they were waiting for their designated nurse, Danielle Burton, to join them; she’d needed to fetch Ozzie Harrington’s file, and had left them standing next to a common area.

The left half of the space was set up with half a dozen oak tables—the dining/craft/games space. The right half contained several comfy-looking couches lined up in front of a screen—the TV/movie lounge.

As D.D. watched, one dark head popped up from behind the first sofa, followed quickly by two more. The kids’ gazes zoomed in on D.D. and Alex, then the three boys scrambled over the furniture.

“Hola. ¿Cómo está?” the smallest boy said, running up, then stopping in front of them, his bare toes touching D.D.’s pointed black shoes, his face all earnest interest. His two friends lined up behind him. D.D. pegged the leader’s age at seven or eight. He had his jeans rolled up all the way to his thighs. As he stood there, he started folding and unfolding his right pants leg.

“Bueno,” D.D. ventured. “¿Y tú?”

“Que bueno. Did you find Lucy? Dónde está?”

D.D. didn’t know who Lucy was. She looked at Alex; he shrugged.

The door next to them opened, and Danielle Burton reappeared. All three boys turned to her, the first tugging on the hem of her T-shirt.

“¿Dónde está Lucy? ¿Dónde, dónde?”

“Está bien, está bien,” the nurse soothed. She ruffled the boy’s inky black hair. “Lucy está aquí. Tranquilo, okay?”

“Okay,” the boy agreed.

“This is Jimmy.” Danielle introduced the lead boy to Alex and D.D. “And here are his partners in crime, Benny and Jorge. If you ever want a dynamite game of Matchbox cars, these are your boys.”

Alex took the bait. He squatted until he was eye level with Jimmy and asked, “What’s your favorite car?”

“Monster car!” Jimmy whooped. He stuck out his arms and took off in a wide-arcing run, looking more like an airplane than a car to D.D. But Benny and Jorge apparently thought this was good enough, and they took off running around the tables in the common room as well.

“Walking feet,” Danielle called out.