She opens her mouth to speak, but her quivering chin ruins the words before they emerge.

“Honey, who took you to the lady’s house? Did you see?”

She nods hesitantly.

“Who was it? Did you know them?”

“Fuh . . . fire. Fire man,” she stammers. “Fire man.”

“A fireman? With a red hat?”

She shakes her head. “A black and yellow hat.”

“That’s good, punkin. He was just making sure you were all right. Did you see his face?”

“He had a mask. Like a swimming mask.”

A respirator. “That’s good. Did he say anything to you?”

“He said he had to get me away. Get me safe.”

“That’s right, that’s right. He was just getting you away from the fire. Everything’s fine now.”

Her face seems to crumple in on itself. “Daddy, I’m scared.”

I crush her to my chest, as though to protect her from the threat that has already passed. “I love you, punkin. I love you.”

She shudders against me.

“I said, I love you, punkin.” I pull her back and look into her eyes, waiting.

“I love you more,” she says softly, completing our ritual, and my anxiety lessens a little.

Livy climbs into the driver’s seat, squeezes Annie’s shoulder, then takes her silk scarf from the glove compartment and begins wiping soot from my face.

“Where do you want to go?” she asks.

“Let’s just sit for a minute.”

“Do you think it’s safe here? Your mom told me about the note.”

Instead of answering her question, I lift the Fiat’s cell phone, call Information, and ask for the number of Ray Presley. Livy takes her hand from my knee and watches me with apprehension. Presley’s phone rings twenty times. No one answers.

“Is he there?” she asks in a quiet voice.

“No.”

Her face is strangely slack. “Penn, why did you call Ray Presley?”

“There’s no time to go into it now.”

“Penn? Where are you, son?”

It’s my father. “Over here, Dad!”

Livy looks back over the trunk of the convertible. “He’s seen us. He’s coming.”

“Olivia!” Dad cries, rushing up to the car. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, it’s Penn and Annie who need help. I’m so sorry about this, Dr. Cage. It’s just unbelievable.”

Dad leans over the passenger door and hugs Annie and me. Annie keeps her head buried in my neck.

“Is she all right?”

“I think so. Considering what just happened. Somebody—”

“I already heard. The story’s spreading like—” He laughs bitterly. “Like wildfire. Where’s your mother?”

“I told her to go across the street and put the note in a Ziploc. There might be fingerprints.” I reach up and take his hand. “I should have listened to you. You told me they’d stoop this low.”

He squeezes my hand hard. “It’s just a house. We’ll build another one.”