Ann was still happy that Michael was part of the family, but by the time their car pulled into the Cape house driveway for the first time that summer, she felt so frustrated by her siblings that she thought she might burst. She needed some space, and she wanted to make some money for college, which was only a year away. So, when Mrs. Shaw asked her to start babysitting the very next day, Ann jumped at the opportunity.

WHEN SHE WAS YOUNGER, ANN understood her parents’ concern about her prospective employers. Now that she was seventeen, their supervision felt unnecessary and annoying. They insisted on driving her to the Shaws’. She sat in the backseat, feeling like a little kid. “I told you I can ride my bike. It’s not that far.”

“We just want to know where you’ll be.” Her dad was driving slowly, looking carefully at the addresses on the mailboxes, pissing off the drivers who were stuck behind him, not that he ever cared what anyone else thought. They were on Chequessett Neck Road, north of Mayo Beach, in a fancy area somewhere near the yacht club. This was the way they drove to get to Jeremy Point, their favorite picnic spot.

“This is so embarrassing.”

Her mother said, “We’re your parents. Someday you’ll have your own kids and you’ll understand.”

“You always say that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“How are they going to trust me to watch their children if you guys show up? It’s not dangerous here, like in Milwaukee.” Oh God, why did she have to say that? She knew any reference to Milwaukee and crime would lead her mother to think about serial killer Jeffrey Dahmer. Ann was still in elementary school during his trial, but she remembered Connie volunteering as a court comforter to provide support to the victims’ families. She brought them food, coffee, and tissues, and held their hands while they listened to gory testimony about how he’d drugged and tortured all those young men.

Her mother never spoke much about what she’d heard, although Ann noticed that the experience had changed her. Because of her easy nature, her mother was still more laid-back than most of Ann’s friends’ parents, but after the trial she seemed more suspicious of people, warier. Ann sometimes wondered if that’s why her mother was willing to move forward with Michael’s adoption. Dahmer had lived near the Marquette neighborhood where he’d found his victims. Michael was young and vulnerable—he could have easily been in danger.

“Mom,” Ann said. “Really. You know nothing bad ever happens here.”

“That’s not true,” her father said. “A woman was murdered in Truro a few years ago, remember?”

“Ed!”

“I’m not scared. I’ll be fine,” Ann said. “Next year I’ll be in college. What will you do then?”