“I realize that.” She strode across the foyer and reopened the front door. “But what she needs is professional help. I’ve arranged for her to see someone starting next week, an excellent therapist in Albany. She’s not too happy about that, but I’m doing my best to convince her to go.”

“That’s good.” Maggie edged toward the door. She didn’t have a choice. Mrs. Cannon was herding her out. “I don’t want to provide therapy. I just thought I could offer her, like, support.”

“I see. Well, that’s … thoughtful.” Her tone suggested otherwise. “I know about you, Margaret, and what you went through. It was in the paper”—she grimaced—“on more than one occasion. You had a tough time last year. Too tough, in my opinion. I don’t want Jane…” She cleared her throat. “To face a similar ordeal.” She palmed her cheek. “I want her to forget and hopefully, someday, start over at a different college. That’s the best I can hope for.”

Maggie stared at her bleakly. She wanted to ask: What about justice? What about confronting whoever it was who’d hurt her? What about keeping him from targeting others? But Jane’s mother looked determined. Over the woman’s shoulder, Maggie could see a bit of the hallway at the top of the staircase. She wished Jane would appear and speak for herself—and clarify whether her mom’s solution (if it could be called that) was also her own.

“Thank you for visiting.” Mrs. Cannon opened the door even wider—a pointed here’s the way out; now leave.

With a hollow sense of defeat, she trudged outside. “Will you please tell her I stopped by, let her know she can call or write if she wants?”

Without meeting Maggie’s gaze, she nodded, then murmured a fast “Thanks and bye now.”

Maggie was left facing a closed door. She suspected the woman wouldn’t mention a word about her visit to Jane. In fact, Maggie doubted she’d ever hear from Jane Cannon again.

“Well,” Linnie said, “that was a waste of time.”

Maggie turned. She and Caleb had been driving for almost twenty minutes and talking quietly, not wanting to disturb Linnie’s sleep.

She struggled up from her backseat sprawl and yawned. A truck hauling logs roared past. Its lights cut into the car, skimming Linnie’s delicate features and heavy eyes. She massaged her forehead and faintly groaned. “So Jane’s not joining Margaret’s crime-fighting team of superheroes?”

The sarcasm rattled Maggie.

Caleb flicked Linnie a frown in the rearview mirror.