Her cries were subdued at first, but within a minute they grew into sobs. Fearing she might collapse, she reached out for the nearby staircase banister. She gripped it tightly, hanging on, as if this handrail were the only thing keeping her from spinning off into the abyss.

“Oh God,” she whimpered. “This can’t be happening.”

But then an inner voice spoke to her. A voice that sounded a lot like . . . Adam.

Pull yourself together, her late husband told her. You’re going to get through this. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.

Sandra struggled to tamp down the sobs. She slowed her breathing, let go of the railing, and wiped the tears from her eyes.

She heard another voice.

“Mom?”

But this one wasn’t in her head. This one was real. And it was coming from right behind her.

Sandra whirled around. And the tears she’d just managed to get under control burst forth again, as if some sort of emotional dam had burst.

“Katie!”

She pulled her daughter into her arms and squeezed her, patted the back of her head, wept into her shoulder, barely noticing the blood on her shirt and her hands and her scuffed knees and the grass and dirt stains on her clothes.

Sandra would have held on to her for much longer, but she pulled away long enough to look at her and say, “Archie.”

Katie, as teary-eyed as her mother, shook her head. “I don’t know. I—”

“You were supposed to be—”

“I know! I know!” Katie shouted. “He got away. He went with his friends, in one of those cars.”

“Oh God,” Sandra said. “When was this? When did they go? Where did they—”

“Right after you left. They were going to the mall. But—”

“We have to go,” Sandra said, suddenly frantic. “We have to get to the mall—”

“I know! But, Mom, Bruce—”

“How are we going to get there?” Sandra said, more to herself than her daughter. “The bike got crushed. I have—”

“What bike?” Katie asked.

“Have to find some other—are you sure he’s at the mall?”

“All I know is that’s where he was going, but I don’t know if he ever got—”

Sandra spotted the keys to her regular car sitting in a plastic dish and, instinctively, went to reach for them, but stopped herself. “Goddamn it,” she said. “Why did we let them take our cars away?”

“Mom, you need to listen. You need—”

“Which friends?”

“What?”

“Which friends did he go to the mall with?”

“Nick and Rory.”

Sandra closed her eyes for an instant. “Where do they—doesn’t Nick live close by?”

Katie nodded. “About a block away. Both of them.”

“Maybe they went there. Maybe Archie’s there.”

“Yeah, maybe, okay, we can go check. But, Mom, stop and listen to me for one second.”