It took a little longer to convince her, but eventually she left. When Somers stepped into the house, he could smell garlic and tomato and sausage; a red sauce was boiling on the stove, huge drops spattering the range. Somers turned off the heat.

“Ree? I think the sauce is ready.” No answer. “I’m going to take care of the window; be right back.”

After grabbing the drill and a box of exterior-use screws, Somers found a sheet of plywood in the garage that was roughly the right size and carried it around the side of the house. He fastened the temporary covering in place, and then he returned the drill and the screws. When he got back to the kitchen, though, the sauce was still sitting on the stove.

“Ree?”

Somers checked the living room; the TV was tuned to an episode of The Bravest Knight. He checked the dining room—lights off—and the sitting room, at the front of the house, thinking maybe Hazard was cleaning up the glass. But the shards of glass lay where they had fallen, spangling the sofa and a crescent of floor.

He walked a little faster.

Upstairs, he checked their bedroom—lights off—and their bathroom—lights off. Quick glances. Then he was walking again. One of his sneakers squeaked against the floorboards like Somers was in a race with invisible clowns. He checked the hall bathroom; the light was on, the door was open, Evie’s stool near the sink, the hand soap moved where she could reach it. From where he stood, he could see the light on in Evie’s bedroom, but he couldn’t hear anything. The silence buzzed in his ears, the acoustic equivalent of spindrift. His sneaker squeak-squeak-squeaked down the hall.

Evie’s bedroom was empty. Somers stared at the familiar chaos—an entire caravan of Fashionista Fillies was apparently en route to the ice castle from Frozen; the child-sized lab coat that Hazard had bought for Evie (purchased after lengthy explanations about the importance of integrating a full spectrum of career possibilities into her play, and to which, after explanation number forty-seven, Somers had finally said, “Is one of those career options a mime?” which had gone over about as well as he should have expected) was piled on the floor with princess dresses and Disney-themed plastic heels and a glittery, beaded knot of necklaces that Hazard had bought on clearance and then tried to throw away when Somers, laughing, explained they were for Mardi Gras. All the normal mess was present and accounted for. So where were his daughter and his fiancé?

A soft voice from inside the closet was followed by a bump and a giggle.

Somers leaned against the dresser. He covered his face in his hands and tried not to cry. After a moment, he had himself under control, and he slapped his cheeks a few times and cleared his throat.

“Are we playing hide-and-seek?”

“Hide-and-seek, hide-and-seek, hide-and-seek!” Evie screamed inside the closet.

“I’m pretty sure I know where they are,” Somers said, stomping a few times. “Are they under the bed?”