She stood and paced. Maybe she was coming at this from the wrong direction? Don’t think about Gavin. Think about the party.

Up until a few days ago, she could only remember two people there that night: John and Sylvie. But now she believed that Silas Jackson had been there, and she knew that Sean Daniels was there. If she tracked down more people from that night, she might be able to color in enough of the scene to make a picture. It would take time—weeks, maybe months—but what were a few more months after living a nightmare for eight years? Besides, she would have plenty of time on her hands once Frank pulled the trigger on her termination.

Lila wrote Sean Daniels’s name on her legal pad. Maybe he could remember a few names from that night, fresh bread crumbs for Lila to follow. It may lead nowhere, but at least she wouldn’t be sitting on the sidelines. She would start with Sean.

* * *

Lila made it to quitting time with no message from Dovey, leaving work a little early to avoid running into him at the elevators. She drove to Sean Daniels’s house in Lake Elmo, a quiet little burb on the outer ring of the Twin Cities, having found the address online. On the drive, Lila tried to remember everything she could about Sean. He had been a smallish boy who hung around the fringe of the conversations, piping up at the oddest moments with jokes that weren’t funny. Wasn’t he on the yearbook staff? She seemed to remember him taking pictures at high school events. He was a photographer?

And then there was his senior picture. She had kept it in her car after leaving her mother’s house and now glanced at the inscription as she moved it to her pocket. Every dog has its day. What the hell was that supposed to mean? She wasn’t sure why, but it seemed important that she surprise him—capture his honest reaction to her showing up out of the blue.

She parked in his driveway and paused before getting out of her car. His house was one of the largest on a street full of large houses: two stories, a stone façade, a three-car garage, and at least an acre of land. Clay pots filled with flowers framed the front door, suggesting a woman’s touch, and on the driveway, a toy horse lay on its side. Children?

She walked up, rang the doorbell, and waited as footsteps approached. An amiable woman in her midtwenties opened the door and smiled at Lila.

“Hello,” Lila said. “Is Sean here?”

“He is, and who can I say…?”

“Could you tell him that it’s Lila Nash…from high school?”

Curiosity passed across the woman’s face, but she smiled and invited Lila inside.

The home was lovely, full of windows and light. An open staircase in the entryway rose in a graceful curve to the second floor. Lila remained at the door, admiring the grandeur of the home as the woman left to get Sean. The sound of at least two children, young ones, came from somewhere beyond the foyer. A minute later, Sean emerged from a long hall.