Ronnie placed her hands over her face and felt her legs give out from under her again. This was her fault. All her fault. What kind of mother turned a child over to a stranger? Why hadn’t she stalked this place more carefully? Please, she prayed. I’ll do better. I’ll never leave her out of my sight. I’ll only give her the best. I’ll be a better person, too. I’ll try my hardest. Just bring her back.

And then her phone rang.

She stared at it. The call was from a number she didn’t recognize. She considered just sending it to voicemail—maybe it was a reporter, something about Piper, or maybe a cop following up—but something made her answer. “H-Hello?” she said uncertainly.

“Mommy?”

Ronnie’s heart leapt. “Esme?”

“Mommy!” Esme sounded chipper. “Mommy Mommy Mommy!”

“Oh my God, Esme.” Tears were running down Ronnie’s cheeks. “Honey, where are you? Whose number is this?”

“I’m eating donuts!” Esme said, then giggled. “Don’t tell Daddy Lane.”

“Donuts? That’s fine, honey!” At least Vanessa was feeding her. “Are you on a big highway?” Ronnie tried to keep her voice calm.

“No,” Esme scolded, like Ronnie should know better. “I’m eating our favorite donuts. You know, the ones with the sprinkles?”

Sprinkles? Ronnie thought of the red sugar around Esme’s mouth just days before when they’d gone to the donut shop around the corner. “Where’s Vanessa?” she asked. “Your . . . auntie?”

“She told me to sit here and be good and eat my donut. I’m on a really big phone that makes a lot of beeps!”

Ronnie had no idea what she was talking about. “Can I talk to her?”

“Umm . . .” There was a clunk and some shuffling, but then Esme was back on the line again. “When are you going to be here, Mommy?”

It was all the permission Ronnie needed. She’d never run so fast to get back to her car. She sped through a red light and a yellow light and then another red light, certain that the gods of motherhood were watching over her and diverting all traffic cops to other intersections. She parked in front of a fire hydrant at the curb and burst through the front door of the donut shop and there was Esme, oh my God, Esme, her hair tangled, her eyes bright, red sugar all over her mouth.

“Mommy!” Esme cried, grinning wide.

She jumped from the booth, and Ronnie ran across the floor, and they met in the middle in a giant hug. Ronnie was crying, but Esme was smiling wide. “I missed you, Mommy! When can we go home?”