“Mother, someone followed me home from school today. I’m afraid he’s still out there.”

“Someone was following you?” Vivian reached out and placed her palm to Charlotte’s forehead, like she always did when anything was wrong with her. “You said he? He who?”

Charlotte sat up, comforted by her mother’s presence, sitting on the bed next to her like she used to do when Charlotte was little. But she kept the covers clenched in her fists.

“I don’t know. I just know it was a man. I sprayed him with Spray Net, and I dropped the can and ran.”

“Charlotte!”

Charlotte winced.

“When Mrs. Gifford came over she brought the license and the Spray Net. I had dropped it in the alley behind the Messners’ garage.”

“Oh, my goodness, honey.” Vivian knit her eyebrows together and grabbed the points with her thumb and middle finger, as if she were experiencing pain. This was all her fault. The accidentally dropped driver’s license had brought this mess to her doorstep, and to her family. But, I dropped it, I dropped it, I dropped it . . . A little boy picked it up, and put it in his pocket. She took a deep breath.

“Well, maybe it was someone who found my license and was just trying to return it.”

The sentence came out in a calm, smooth, unbroken line, and Vivian hoped it might make Charlotte feel a little better. She almost believed it herself.

Charlotte frowned as if this wasn’t something she had considered.

“You didn’t put it in my book bag?”

Vivian ignored this. Why would her driver’s license have been in Charlotte’s book bag?

“You probably scared the poor person off, or maybe they had to rush to the hospital because of the Spray Net.”

“Well,” Charlotte began. “Maybe. That would make sense, wouldn’t it? If you just dropped it somewhere.” She released her grip on the covers.

Vivian reached out to pat Charlotte’s now-relaxed hands.

“Don’t give it any more thought, honey. Get some sleep.”

Charlotte sank back against her pillow as a rush of relief washed over her. Her eyelids drooped and she felt herself being pulled into a deep sleep triggered by exhaustion.

Vivian got up from the bed, leaned over, and kissed Charlotte’s forehead, the way she used to do when Charlotte was little.

“Good night,” she whispered.

As she closed the door to Charlotte’s room behind her, she thought she heard a bump from outside. She crept along the wall to the window at the end of the hallway that looked out onto the Giffords’ house. As her gaze traveled down, she saw a figure in the bushes up against the house.

I just know it was a man.

This was not a coincidence. There was no way that driver’s license could have traveled itself all the way back here from Syracuse. This was someone who had been in Mildred Fischer’s house.

She hoped Charlotte had fallen asleep already, but didn’t have time to worry about that. She flung open the door to their bedroom, crossed to Edward’s sleeping form, and shook him. Hard.