I picked up my phone to try her again a couple of hours later but it rang in my hand before I could call up her number. The display told me: Gorsebrook Residential.

“Karen, hello!” Marlene sounded like she had gotten her mojo back since last we spoke — her voice was back to being warm and caressing. She said she had good news. “I’ve been calling all our clients to let them know. Jeremy was returned to us safely approximately eight hours after he went missing.”

“Eight hours?”

“We would’ve let you know sooner, but first we wanted to conduct a thorough investigation as to what went wrong. It turns out a relative had taken him out on a day pass, but the information wasn’t logged.”

“So he was safe the whole time?”

“Yes!” said Marlene. I could hear the relieved smile in her voice. “We still don’t have a satisfying explanation for how the documentation disappeared — we’re very meticulous about that. It was an unforgivable oversight and the person responsible has been let go.”

“Where did Jeremy go?” I asked.

“Where?” said Marlene, surprised by the question. “Well, apparently his sister took him to Ikea. And then to eat at Swiss Chalet. Two of his favourite destinations, from what I understand.”

I laughed a little. I wondered if Kelli would like to go to Ikea sometime.

“Karen, I hope you’ll still consider us for your sister. I want you to know that a bed has come up, if you’re interested. It should be ready in about a month. A couple have come available, actually.”

“Oh,” I said. Marlene’s tone had darkened when she said “a couple” and I intuited why. “Because of what happened with Jeremy?”

“Yes, I’m afraid. But if you’d like to stake a claim —”

“What I’d like,” I interrupted, “is to sign Kelli up for your day program. And then let’s just see how we do.”

· · ·

I hung up with the same exhilarated feeling I had after Eleanor Mallon had come to visit. Like I’d gone from room to room, throwing open the windows of the house, flooding it with clean, oxygenated air. Things were moving again. Gorsebrook was back on. This time, I vowed, I wouldn’t let myself get mired down; I would ride the momentum downhill, out of this house, into our condo on the other side of the harbour and accompanying new stage of life.

It had been easy to turn down Marlene’s offer of a bed for Kelli. I stood there holding my phone after the conversation, trying to remember why I ever thought I needed a bed in the first place. The decision to move here, to give up my house and job, had seemed monumental enough at the time — the idea of taking Kelli on full time in addition to all that had been too much to get my head around. But now I had the day program. I had Eleanor Mallon’s brochures — Your Team. I was equipped and, for all my earlier screw-ups, I knew that I was capable. But all that wasn’t really why I changed my mind. What changed my mind was the simple fact that at some point over the past few weeks the idea of placing Kelli in a home had become unthinkable.