From inside comes the drip of water and a shuffling sound like wildlife. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end, and I turn to see a bear sitting on the road that winds up and past the Buckner. My heart beats against my ribs. Bears are a common sighting here—they find this building a good place to hunker down on occasion—but I’m still awed by their wildness. Indecision freezes me in place. Should I turn and go or be still and let the bear go on its way? He sits back on his haunches, stares directly at me, and even from this distance I can see his black, pointed ears, the caramel fur around his muzzle, and his eyes, and all I can think about is Dad because he’s big and strong like a bear but also kindhearted and gentle too.

Suddenly, I’m not scared, even as my pulse thunders in my ears. The bear gets to his feet and shakes his shiny black coat before sauntering up the road, then breaking into a run. He’s beautiful when he moves, and I watch him disappear when the road curves to the right. I’m oddly calm; the experience seems fitting here, in front of the building that stares down at me, empty and alone. I’m turning to leave when a small form darts from around the other side of the building.

It’s a child—a girl—with her hair pulled into what I think is a poorly executed beehive, which, combined with her cat-eye glasses, gives her the look of someone who might have roamed this building in its heyday. She’s running straight toward me as though she’s been waiting for me. Do I know her?

“Oh, crap, Ms. Claire, this place is freaking creepy!”

Question answered: I do, in fact, know her.

“What are you doing here?” I ask, keeping the question general enough to get an answer that might help me connect the dots.

The girl stands with her hands on her hips, her cheeks red, her breathing heavy and exaggerated like she just ran a half marathon. I smile. She’s cute.

“I want to go inside, but I’m not allowed to ’cause it’s too dangerous.”

“Why do you want to go inside?”

She gives me a look like I’m made of something dense.

“I want to see what’s in there! Then I saw you walking up here, so I ran as fast as I could, ’cause you’re a really tall adult and a teacher, and you could take me in, right?”

The dots are getting easier to connect, but that doesn’t mean I understand them any better. “You followed me here?”