But it was too late. He was already out the front door, and she saw that past the porch lights it was fully dark, with no moon to speak of. Blacker than the inside of a cow, as Peter used to say, until the motion-sensor driveway lights went on. With her eyes she swept the driveway and then the slice of High Street she could see. No black SUVs.

Then she remembered. She’d sent that text to Sherri. Except she hadn’t told Sherri that she had moved the girls to her own house, so if Sherri was on her way anywhere it was to her own house.

“I’ll bring it back safe, don’t you worry,” Tyler was saying from the driveway. “I just want to talk to the guy. Cam. See what I can do about getting my girl back.”

“Ugh. Tyler, I’m not your girl. I was never your girl. I’m not anyone’s girl.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Tyler.

She heard him peel out of the driveway in the Acura. If anything happened to her mother’s car, her mother was going to freak out. She’d just gotten that dent fixed.

Once again, she closed and locked the door. She peeked in on the girls—they were off the couch, and doing their own dance to Freedom along with Anna Kendrick and the rest of the Bellas. Katie had decent rhythm.

Okay. Deep breath. In, out. Everyone was safe.

She sent another text to Sherri. So sorry. False alarm.

79.

Cam

Cam’s parents were at the lake; he had the house to himself. Before it got dark he and the dog, Sammy, had walked all the way around the Artichoke reservoir—five solid miles, with hills—and they were both tired and content. He was waiting to hear from Alexa. She said she’d call him when she was finished babysitting. Cam had thought at first that he might be invited to go over while she was babysitting, but in the end he was glad, in a self-preserving way, that he hadn’t been. He didn’t want to compromise her babysitting reputation.

Cam was so attracted to Alexa. He couldn’t even believe it. He understood in a way he never had before why people did crazy things for love: why they killed for it, died for it, ruined their lives or the lives of other people over it. Why they fought wars! He had never comprehended, when they were assigned The Illiad in high school, just how it was that Helen of Troy’s beauty could have caused such havoc between the Trojans and the Achaeans. Now, though? If some guy named Paris of Newburyport tried to make Alexa fall in love with him and take her away from Cam forever . . . yeah, he’d put up a fight. He’d start a war.