The Rosh Yeshiva became lost in thought, his posture stooped as if the discussion had added weight onto his shoulders. Several moments passed before he spoke. Then he whispered to himself, “Hashem natan, Hashem lakach. Yehi shem Hashem mevorach.” To Decker, he said calmly, “We borrow our children from Hashem. If God in His infinite wisdom took the life of my young child, I’d bless the fact that he was now in the hands of the perfect father.”

Decker walked into the cool night air and tried to relax. His discussion with the Rosh Yeshiva, combined with the day’s events, had flipped the on-switch, and he was overflowing with nervous energy. He jogged past the dorm building and through the postage-stamp lots of single-family dwellings, heading toward the parking lot, but stopped when he reached Rina’s house. It was a quarter to eleven but the lights were still on. Deliberating a moment, he made a sharp left, walked up to her door, and knocked softly.

“Who is it?” he heard her say.

“It’s Peter, Rina.”

She unhooked the chain and opened the door.

“Hello there,” she said, letting him in. “You’re just the person I wanted to see.”

“Why’s that?”

“Someone has been having nightmares.”

Decker’s eyes fixed on Jacob in his Spiderman pajamas. It always amazed him how much more vulnerable kids looked in their sleepwear.

“Hey, Jakey,” he said, sitting next to him. The boy’s blue eyes were open and alert. “What’s on your mind, big fellah?”

Jacob shrugged.

“He wanted to know whether you’ve captured the bad man who dumped the bones in the woods,” Rina said.

Shit, Decker thought. To love a kid is to live with guilt.

“No, not yet,” he said. “Jacob, that man isn’t going to hurt you. He lives far, far away and isn’t going to come here.”

“How do you know?” the child asked.

“Because I know. He’s not interested in hurting you or your eema or anybody here at the yeshiva. Jakey, you’re safe.”

The kid looked skeptical.

“No one is going to come in here,” Decker tried again. “The windows and doors are all locked. They can’t come in here.”

“Suppose a burglar breaks a window?”

“What did I tell you I’d do?” Rina said.

The boy gave a hint of a smile.

“You’d spray his eyes with poison,” he answered.

“And then what?”

“While he was rubbing his eyes and going YOW, you’d hit him over the head with a frying pan.”

“And then what?” Rina prompted.

“You’d break a lamp over his head,” he giggled.

“And?”

“After he was all knocked out, you’d tie him up with your leather belts and call the police.”

“And who always makes sure you’re safe?”

“Hashem!”

“And who always looks after you wherever you are?”

“Hashem!”