Dee knows that her sister has not come back to her as a mangy alley cat. Of course not. That would be crazy. But she can’t help the feeling that the cat pulled her out of the dream. That it is helping her, somehow.

Dee goes to her post at the window. The world is lit by a dim and secret light. She is not sure if it’s dawn or dusk. She hasn’t slept on a regular schedule for some time. She gasps, her heart flurries with shock.

Ted is standing in his front yard. Bourbon drips from his beard. He lifts a slow hand, a pointing finger. His eyes seem to pierce the shadows. Dee wriggles as if his gaze is a touch.

She knows he can’t see through the glass, into the dark house. But she feels the feather brush of fear like red bird wings. With it comes a rush of defiance. I’m coming for you, she tells Ted silently. You feel it, too.

She yelps and jumps as her cellphone rings. She’s surprised it’s charged and switched on. It has been so long since she used it. Dee checks the number. She makes a face and answers.

“Hi,” she says.

“Delilah.” Karen sounds even more tired than usual. “How are you doing?”

“Oh, you know,” Dee says. She doesn’t offer anything else. She makes Karen work for it.

“Where are you, these days?”

“I keep moving,” Dee says. “If I stay put I start to think.” Tears rise as she says this. She hadn’t meant to. She brushes her stinging eyes angrily. Truth is as slippery as mercury. It always seems to find a way to escape. Get a grip, Dee Dee. Get it done. “I’m in Colorado, right now.” Colorado seems safely distant from here.

“You need anything, you let me know.”

Words cluster, stinging in her throat but Dee bites them back. Karen has failed again and again to give Dee the only thing she really needs. Lulu.

“How are you?” she says instead.

“We’re having a heatwave up here in Washington,” Karen says. “It hasn’t been this hot in years.” Not since the year Lulu went missing, but neither of them says that. “Anyway I know this time of year is difficult for you. I thought I’d check in.”

“Check in on me or check up on me?” Dee says. She knows Karen is thinking of the man in Oregon.

“What?”

“Nothing. I appreciate it, Karen.”

“You’ve been on my mind. I could have sworn I saw you in a grocery store in town the other day. The mind plays tricks, huh?”

“That it does,” Dee says. Her heart is racing. “That part of the world won’t hold me, Karen. I wouldn’t come back.”

“I understand.” Karen sighs. “You promise me you’ll call, Dee, if you need help?”

“I do.”