Years later, looking back, Asher sometimes thought he heard the little gold key slide into its place in the post-office box. In his memory the sound was much like that of old-fashioned prison keys in the movies: the exaggerated sound of metal on metal when filmmakers wanted to drive home the fact that somebody was being locked away. By this time Asher was already a prisoner, too, and he would not be able to rid himself of that feeling for a long while. He had been terrified for an entire month, of course, but that moment in the post office was the beginning of the end. Easy to see now.

A turn of his wrist, the grainy grind of the small hinges, his hand diving into the post-office box.

Tucked into the dip of a roll of circulars, there is a utility bill, an issue of Time magazine, what appears to be a letter from Guntersville, Alabama, and then: a rectangular card. One side is blank save this address:

RESIDENT

KEY WEST, FL 33040

On the other side, in huge letters along the top:

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS CHILD?

Below that, a picture of Justin that Asher himself took almost a year ago. Justin is looking right into the camera, big eyes and open face, his full beauty exposed. A revealing picture of him, one that had been chosen because that shining look is on his face. He had taken the perfect picture for a card announcing a kidnapping: completely innocent, appearing younger than his true age, small. The kind of child anyone would want to help save.

What the picture does not show, since it has been cropped down to only his face: Justin had been standing on the banks of Cheatham Lake behind Asher’s rented trailer. Since the photo has been made black and white by the card makers, the peach-orange light of near-sunset has been lost, too.

That day, Asher had packed them a lunch: peanut butter and jelly sandwich for Justin, a ham sandwich for himself, a bag of chips for them both, and two cans of peach Nehi that Asher kept cold in a Bunny Bread bag full of ice.

That day they had eaten their lunch beneath the willows, watching the small waves sup at the bank. Then he had taught Justin how to skip rocks.

It’s all in the choosing of the rock. Look at this one, it’s perfect.

The sky had turned a deep golden pink, and the light on Justin’s face had made him look like he was glowing from inside, like some kind of modern child-saint.

Don’t move. No, don’t, now. Daddy’s gonna take your picture.

The click of the camera, the moment caught forever.

Then they had lain back on the quilt and let the sun set and listened to the lake. A perfect day. A day Asher had immediately known he would always remember.