“See, it’s getting louder now,” she said, “but not as loud as before. Louder…louder…”

But as before, I heard nothing and, as far as I could tell, neither did anybody else on the crowded sidewalks. As we passed Seventh Avenue, she pointed straight uptown into the park.

“It’s right in there somewhere—right there!”

For a moment I was afraid she’d jump out of the cab, but then I realized hearing the noise disturbed her as much as not hearing it disturbed me.

And then, with a look of profound relief, she lowered her hands and looked around.

“It’s stopped! Whatever it was, it’s gone. Just like that.” She turned to me. “What was it, Mom? How come only I could hear it?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, honey.”

I didn’t see how I could tell her my greatest fear. But I might as well have, because schizophrenia would have been a blessing compared to what was to come.

3

We spent a wonderful weekend around the city—including the Museum of Natural History, of course—topping it off with a Sunday matinee of The Lion King followed by dinner at Bond 45 in the theater district. Then, on Monday morning, Ellie announced that she wanted to visit the Balto statue. She’d heard the cab driver mention it, looked it up, and decided she wanted to see it in person.

At least that was what she told me.

Bess thought it a dumb idea, especially with a major snowstorm due the next day. But when I suggested we visit the zoo after Balto, then ride on the carousel before lunching at Tavern-on-the-Green, she agreed to meet us on Fifth Avenue.

We entered the park near Sixty-seventh Street and Ellie used a Central Park walking tour app on her phone to lead us to Balto. The bronze statue of the famous huskie stood high on a rock outcropping where a plaque told the story of how, back in 1925, he guided a sled team through an Alaskan blizzard to deliver diphtheria antitoxin to a group of sick children.

But despite the fact that this had been her idea, Ellie didn’t seem the least bit interested in Balto. In fact she kept her back to the statue while she stared at her phone. I had a feeling she wasn’t on Snapchat…

Bess said, “Okay, why don’t we head for the zoo now? It’s just—”

“I want to go this way,” Ellie said, pointing deeper into the park. “There’s someplace I need to see.”

“Are you kidding?” Bess said. “I’m f-f-freezing!”

Bess had a bit of drama queen in her. Being cold was her own fault. Despite the chilly temperatures, she’d arrived dressed in an NYU hoodie. She could have been comfy warm in the Patagonia Micro-Puff jacket I’d bought her but I’m sure she felt it lacked sufficient bo-ho cred.

I had a gut feeling about Ellie, though…

“Is this about—?”

“The sound,” she said, nodding, her look pleading. “I need to see where it came from. Please?”