Outside were the grumbles of engines. More cars were pulling into the parking lot. Doors slammed. Parents of the littler kids, here for early pickup, called hello.

“If we leave now, all the parents will see us,” Ronnie whispered. “And if we call 911, we’ll have to explain how we know Piper was attacked. Behind a locked door.”

“W-We can’t just leave her!” Andrea cried.

“We could say the door was ajar?” Lauren suggested. “And we went inside after we heard the scream, maybe?”

“Do we bring up the notes?” Andrea asked.

“Of course we don’t bring up the notes!” Ronnie shook her head vehemently. “That gives us motive!”

They stared at one another. It was insane they were talking about motive and evidence and guilt. Didn’t only guilty people do that?

And Andrea knew how people could twist things, depending on what they wanted. People saw only what they wanted to see. Take what had happened with her and Roger on that trip they’d planned upstate. Roger had been so excited about it; he’d wanted everything to be perfect. He’d descended into near despair when he found out that his top-choice hotel was all booked, but then Andrea had suggested an even nicer place a few towns over, right on the water, and his spirits had buoyed.

Andrea headed upstate early, but Roger had to finish the school day. She had been excited when she got off the train. They had plans to eat out, to go on hikes, hit the antique stores. She walked around the little town for a while, soaking it in and thinking—foolishly—that she was flying under the radar.

Roger arrived just as she was giving her name to the front desk of the hotel. In youthful exuberance, he ran across the lobby, threw his arms around Andrea, and said, loudly, how happy he was to be there.

A few heads popped up. The desk clerk looked at both of them carefully. It was only later that she realized that the woman saw Andrea as how she’d looked on her train trip: in a suit jacket, her hair longish but still masculine. A man. A semi-famous man. The clerk saw Roger as someone else, too.

Still, Andrea didn’t think much of it at the time. She and Roger had a fun night together at an out-of-the-way restaurant in the woods. Back in the room, they watched movies on separate double beds and fell asleep halfway through room service dessert. The next morning, they woke to someone banging on the door. When Andrea opened it, a balding man about ten years older than she was stormed inside.

“Hey!” she started. “This isn’t—”

But then she’d turned to Roger, who’d scooched back on the bed. He was staring at the man in horror. “Dad?”