“Come with me and we’ll call your mom.” I pulled her to her feet and convinced her to follow me down the stairs.

Piper and I sat at the kitchen island. She was wearing a short red nightgown that could have been described as sexy. I’ve read that young children with a heightened sexual awareness have often been abused. In fifth grade I used to sit on top of the monkey bars in a dress and underwear, blocking the path, so that the boys would likely touch my crotch when they came swinging by.

“Do you want some milk?” I asked.

She nodded.

“Do you still want to call your mom?”

She cast her eyes down.

“OK, let’s have some milk,” I said, “and then we can decide what you want to do.”

“And some cereal. Do they have any excellent cereal?”

I looked in the cabinet and found Special K and Lucky Charms, which surprised me. Piper chose Lucky Charms. I poured her a bowl of cereal and milk and placed the bowl and a spoon on the counter in front of her. I sat next to her while she ate.

Her frame of mind had shifted and she appeared to be recovering from her nightmare. “You know, you can buy a box that has only the Lucky Charms marshmallows,” she said, “and none of the cereal.”

“Wow.”

“I remember you from Natalie’s birthday party,” she said. “You were taking pictures.”

“Yeah.”

She was painstakingly collecting only the marshmallows onto her spoon. “You’re a photographer and a babysitter too? How come?”

I chose to view the question as innocent. “I like Natalie. I like her parents.”

“You like babysitting?”

“Yes.”

Piper took another bite of only marshmallows. I was struck by the definition of her lips, like a painted doll. “That’s weird,” she said.

“Why is it weird?” I asked.

“I saw you taking pictures of the house. Why were you taking pictures of the house?”

I didn’t realize that Piper had noticed what I was doing while they were watching the movie. I experienced a familiar sharp tug in my abdomen. I knew my intentions were pure, but others might not understand.

“It’s a beautiful house, right?”

“What are you going to do with the pictures?”

The faint smirk on her face elicited a burning sensation in my chest, similar to heartburn. “Someday when I buy a house,” I said, “I’ll refer to the pictures for ideas on how to decorate.”

“Are you buying a house?”

“Not now.”

“Are you married?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Not everyone gets married.”

“You don’t want to get married?” Piper swished the milk around her bowl with her spoon.

“I didn’t say that.”

“Are you dating anyone?”

I paused. Ian would have described us as dating, but I didn’t consider sharing that information with Piper.

“I’m divorced.” Robert and Jasper were useful as a dam to block her questions.

“Then you were married before.”

“I have a son.”

“A son?”

“He lives with his dad.”