“No.” Grant wipes his hands on his jeans, feeling sweaty. He has a hunch Mike will call his parents the moment he leaves.

“You are sure you have told me everything? So he said your parents lied. Did he say anything about Danielle?”

“No. Nothing.”

Now Mike’s face is grim. A man who lost the woman he loved. “Are you sure? I need to know if this person knows something about Danielle.”

“Nothing. I swear.”

“If you tell me this, I believe you.”

Grant just nods in agreement so it feels less like he’s lying. “Can I talk to Peter, see if he’s found anything?”

“He’ll call you when he knows something. He doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s working.” There’s something sour and sad in Mike’s voice now, and Grant realizes he’s made a mistake. He’s held back, and Mike realizes it.

He has made Mike suspicious of people he trusts. What if Mike or Peter find the Sender and the Sender tells them the bad thing his father did?

Mike might want his own revenge.

“OK, I’ll go home now, Mike,” he says in a small voice. “Please don’t tell my parents this. Not yet.”

Mike doesn’t say anything now.

Grant walks home in the fading light. He glances back, and Mike is watching him from his front door. Mike raises a hand in a wave. But he’s not holding a phone in his hand, calling Mom or calling the police. Not yet.

He has never done this to his parents, turned to a different adult in an hour of need. He’s never needed to. But he can’t push away the thought in his head.

He thinks if Mike reads the threat against his dad in the email, he’ll know it’s a lie. He’ll dismiss it.

Dad is one of Mike’s best friends. But what if he doesn’t think it is a lie? What has he done to his own father?

27

Julia

The abandoned house. It’s surprising that in a neighborhood of homes all worth well above a half million, there’s one that often stands empty. In Winding Creek you say the words “that house” and people know which one you mean. Among the well-maintained yards and the immaculate porches, that house sits there, like a child alone every day at a school lunch table.

That house, at the end of the lane.