A lot of parents would insist on staying home. They’d take a day off and cancel their meetings just to be around their kid. But Dad isn’t like that. He never takes a sick day, never stays home. His offer to do that is as rare as a unicorn.

“You’re already dressed.”

He looks down as though he’s forgotten what he’s wearing. “I know. But I’m second-guessing myself. I hate the thought of you alone here all day. I worry…the things people say and do. You can come with me and work in the campus library. You used to do that.”

“Yeah. When I was ten.”

“Well…all right…”

“It’s okay, Dad. I’ll get caught up and I’ve got essays to work on for my applications. But who’s going to drive Olivia to school?”

“I’ll drop her on my way.” He smiles. “Maybe I’ll even let her pick the radio station.”

“That might keep her quiet for a few minutes.”

Dad reaches out and pats my leg. He touches me like I’m a hot stove. “I’m skipping afternoon office hours and coming home immediately after the exams. Call me if you need anything while I’m at work. And if the cops come around, don’t answer. They can’t talk to you without the lawyer.”

“Okay.”

“Just keep the doors locked. Okay? All of them.”

“I will.”

But he doesn’t get up. He remains on the end of the bed, his hands resting on his knees. The neighbor’s German shepherd starts barking, which means people are stirring on the street. He always barks when people and kids start leaving for work and school. Then he’s silent again until late afternoon when everyone comes home.

“What’s wrong, Dad?”

“I’m just thinking of Danny’s mom. I know she’s been raising him alone, working nights, and then she comes home and finds him dead in his room. Strangled. His room ransacked. There must have been a pretty good struggle. I can’t imagine what she’s going through. It’s ugly.”

“Kind of like when we lost Mom,” I say.

“Kind of. But losing a child…that’s the toughest of all.”

“Like Chloe’s parents,” I say.

“Yes. Except they still have hope. Right?”

“Right.”

Dad looks like he doesn’t know what else to say. He stares straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts.

“The two things don’t have to be related,” I say. “Chloe and Daniel. Just because someone broke into Daniel’s house and killed him doesn’t mean it’s connected to Chloe.”

“I know,” he says. “Two very different things. But Bentley hasn’t had a murder in two years, and now…all at once a student is killed and one is missing. And both from the same high school.”

“And both connected to me,” I say.