I wait on the front porch. The day is clear and cool, a reprieve from the recent sweltering days.

The door opens. “Ms. Rebecca!” Savi flings herself into my arms. “Where have you been?”

I smooth my hands over her short hair. “I’ve had a lot going on lately. I’m so sorry I missed our cello lesson.”

“That’s okay. Can we play now?”

“Actually, I’m here to see your mom.”

“She’s next door talking to our neighbor. Design stuff.”

I remind myself that Savi is ten, perfectly old enough to stay home alone, but with everything going on … “So Pam’s not here?”

“Today is her day off. Come on. Let’s go play!”

Despite my concern over her staying home alone, Savi’s energy is infectious. In all that excitement, she probably doesn’t realize I’ve only been here once. I close the door and lock it for good measure, then carefully follow her trail. The hallway is wide, and I use my cane for guidance.

“Where are the stairs again?”

She directs me from the second floor. “Stop!” She says as I nearly ram into the base of the spiral staircase. My hand glides over a polished banister as I curve up in a semicircle while Savi begins one of my favorite songs, Bach’s Cello Suite No. 1. I listen to the bobbing broken chords and the tranquility that seeps through the entire piece. She fumbles through some of the progressions, but I applaud her effort, even from the top stair. It reaches its peak and then she finishes. I step into a room to my right and clap. “That was unbelievable!” I exclaim. “Do you know how hard that piece is?”

“I messed up a few times though.”

Still, the pride is evident. I sit beside her on the small couch. “What room is this?”

“It’s an office, but I use it as my music room. Mom says when I’m older, I can have a music studio.”

“Good acoustics in here though.”

“I know.” To demonstrate, she plays another impossible riff. “The ceilings are really high.”

I sit beside her. “I know people my age who can’t play that well. You truly have a gift, young lady.”

“Thank you. Can we play right now? I’ve missed it so much.”

I hesitate. It’s only been a few days, but she’s right—it feels like ages since we last played together. Though I’m here to ask for Crystal’s help, not play an instrument. But really … what will Crystal be able to do? Force the police to tell me what’s going on? If Jake says they are getting closer, then I believe him. I have to believe him.

All leads take time, and time is literally my enemy. I need it to pass as quickly as possible. “I’d have to go get my cello.”

“You can play this one. I have my old one.”