Mr. Finch nodded. “We had her late in life. We never thought we’d have a child, let alone be gifted with one as special as Zoe. By the time she was three, she’d taught herself to read. We knew she was different from other kids. The school here couldn’t accommodate her, so we took out a second mortgage to send her to private school. But even there, she was in classes with kids so much older than her. Socially, she was always an outsider.”

Mrs. Finch dabbed her eye with the crumpled tissue. “She was excited when he asked her out. She hadn’t been out on many dates. I was worried, but I thought the university was so nice. All the kids seemed to have good manners. I worried about strangers hurting her. I never thought I’d have to worry about her friends.”

“Now we know better.” Mr. Finch’s lips compressed with despair. “We’ve researched all the statistics. Most girls are harmed by people they know, not strangers. Did her boyfriend hang around the museum?”

“No, I’d never seen him before,” Louisa answered. “Have you met any of Zoe’s other friends?”

Mr. Finch’s head bobbed in a tight, strained nod. “Her roommate, Isa. We’ve seen her a couple of times when we stopped by to visit Zoe. Frankly, we were going to ask you the same thing.”

Louisa sighed. “I’m afraid not. Has she mentioned anyone else to you lately? Any difficulties with her courses? Any problems with other students?”

“No,” Mr. Finch said quietly. “She seemed excited about her classes. She loves the museum and was very pleased to be working with you.”

Louisa swallowed a lump of sadness. “She’s a terrific student.” She didn’t want to believe that Zoe would never bounce into her office again.

“I thought she’d finally found somewhere she belonged, a place where she could find other people like her. She was supposed to make friends and have a normal life.” A sob slipped past Mrs. Finch’s tight lips. “She wasn’t supposed to—”

Her control broke. Her shoulders shook, and tears streamed down her face. Her husband turned her into his chest and rubbed her back. The look he cast over his wife’s shoulder was full of anger and sorrow. “Please let us know if you can think of anyone else that Zoe spent time with. The police act like there’s no point in even trying. They won’t say it, but I can tell they’re convinced she’s dead, but I can’t believe it. I keep thinking that I’d feel different if she was gone. That I’d know. That something inside of me would have died right along with her.”