Thankfully, the test for gym class is pretty simple. We have to either run a mile or take a fourteen-page written exam about the rules and history of the various team sports we participated in throughout the year. It’s not a surprise when all but four of us change into shorts and a school logo T-shirt and head outside to the track.

On my best day, I’m not a fast runner. Today was not even close to my best day, which means I end up jogging with a bunch of other students I’ve known forever. They keep up a running conversation about the end of finals and their excitement about summer break. And for some reason they insist on asking me questions.

I force myself to answer in between panting breaths. It isn’t until the test is over and I am getting back into my uniform that I think about the dream and realize what it meant.

Bread crumbs.

Mom’s paintings were like the bits of bread. Her trail led from Liberty Tower down La Salle Street to whatever the last painting represented. That was where something went wrong. The trail wasn’t complete. But logic dictated that it had to pick up somewhere on La Salle Street—the street where that man with the yellow umbrella found me.

I dig the paper out of my bag and duck behind an open locker so no one can see as I unfurl the fragile page. The paper is stuck to itself in several places. I have to keep reminding myself to go slowly. Not to rush as the page tears.

“Coach Kay wants everyone in the gym now,” someone yells.

Several lockers slam shut and someone calls my name to hurry up.

“I’m coming,” I yell back, but I don’t move as I finally pry the page all the way open.

The paper is wrinkled and torn, but the one word written in the center of the page in red block letters that are faded by the rain and partially washed away still is readable.

VERIFY

Or is it an N in the middle? V-E-N-I-F-Y?

Either way, is it a word? A name? Maybe a product or a place? If VENIFY is some kind of new business, then handing out pieces of paper with the name would certainly get attention. People could turn in the papers for the recycling incentive money.

I fold the paper and carefully stash it away, then head to the gym to listen to Coach Kay’s last-day speech before the bell rings. She gives the screen in my hand a deliberate look as she reminds us all to stay active this summer and not to spend all our time with our tablets.

As soon as the bell sounds, I bolt to the door and hurry to my next final. I am one of the first to arrive at English Comp, which gives me time to turn on my tablet and open up a search window. Do I think the word has an N or an R in it?