When he found no injuries, his short breaths changed to great, heaving gulps. He rocked back on his hips, still holding us. I had no bottle, no binky to offer angry Robert, so I gave him the tip of my finger to suck. I hummed and bounced him, leaning against my husband’s broad chest. I could feel the pounding of Trey’s heart quieting and easing. I don’t know how long the three of us stayed that way, relearning how to breathe in the sweetest moment I’d ever known.

And yet I could not believe that it was truly over.

Marshall had moved away without my noticing. I looked around and found him facing back toward the amusement park, scanning the woods, alert, as if he thought that at any moment Coral herself would come running at us from the carousel.

I told him, “I don’t think she’s coming. She might be dead.”

“Good,” Trey said, vehement, and at the same time Marshall asked, “How?”

“She drank tea. She drank the tea she’d made for Trey.”

Trey said, “We have to get out of here, then. We should go straight down the hillside. Now.”

He was rising, pulling me up as well, already turning toward the downslope, though it was jagged and steep. I planted my feet, bracing against his tug. “No. I have to see.”

By then Robert had calmed enough for me to tuck him back into his car seat. I bent to buckle him in, and Trey picked it up by the handle, swinging it in gentle half circles to soothe him.

“See what?” Trey asked.

“I have to see her. I need to know for certain.” I began hiking perpendicular along the slope, heading back to the carousel.

“No time. We have to get out of here,” Trey said. He and Marshall were following, though. From far away I heard the thin wail of coming sirens. Trey heard them, too. “The police are coming? Already? How?”

Marshall squinted up at the sky. “Gotta be fire trucks. I bet people can see smoke rising off this hilltop for miles and miles.”

I had a different answer, though. “Or Lexie called 911.” She could be close. Close enough to hear the blast, which would tell her that the trade hadn’t happened after all. For Lexie that booming was a bell that tolled Robert’s death and, shortly after that, her mother’s. Right now Lexie Pine thought it was over, but that would not last. I hurried on.

Behind me I could hear Marshall explaining to Trey that it was too late for us to leave. There was only one road out, and it was long. If we passed the firefighters before the first intersection, it would be obvious that we were fleeing the scene. Instead Marshall said we had to get our stories straight.

“You get our stories straight,” I called over my shoulder, my voice sharp. “I have to see.”