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Back When the Stars Go Dark Save as PDF
Chapters (83)
  1. Epigraph
  2. Maps
  3. (prologue)
  4. Part 1: Signs and Vapors
  5. (one)
  6. (two)
  7. (three)
  8. (four)
  9. (five)
  10. (six)
  11. (seven)
  12. (eight)
  13. (nine)
  14. (ten)
  15. (eleven)
  16. (twelve)
  17. Part 2: Secret Things
  18. (thirteen)
  19. (fourteen)
  20. (fifteen)
  21. (sixteen)
  22. (seventeen)
  23. (eighteen)
  24. (nineteen)
  25. (twenty)
  26. (twenty-one)
  27. (twenty-two)
  28. (twenty-three)
  29. (twenty-four)
  30. (twenty-five)
  31. (twenty-six)
  32. (twenty-seven)
  33. (twenty-eight)
  34. (twenty-nine)
  35. (thirty)
  36. (thirty-one)
  37. (thirty-two)
  38. (thirty-three)
  39. (thirty-four)
  40. (thirty-five)
  41. (thirty-six)
  42. (thirty-seven)
  43. (thirty-eight)
  44. (thirty-nine)
  45. Part 3: Time and the Maiden
  46. (forty)
  47. (forty-one)
  48. (forty-two)
  49. (forty-three)
  50. (forty-four)
  51. (forty-five)
  52. (forty-six)
  53. (forty-seven)
  54. (forty-eight)
  55. (forty-nine)
  56. (fifty)
  57. (fifty-one)
  58. (fifty-two)
  59. (fifty-three)
  60. Part 4: The Bent Grove
  61. (fifty-four)
  62. (fifty-five)
  63. (fifty-six)
  64. (fifty-seven)
  65. (fifty-eight)
  66. (fifty-nine)
  67. (sixty)
  68. (sixty-one)
  69. (sixty-two)
  70. (sixty-three)
  71. (sixty-four)
  72. (sixty-five)
  73. (sixty-six)
  74. (sixty-seven)
  75. (sixty-eight)
  76. (sixty-nine)
  77. (seventy)
  78. Dedication
  79. (acknowledgments)
  80. (author’s note)
  81. BY PAULA MCLAIN
  82. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  83. What’s next onyour reading list?

“Those are some brave little girls. They’ve done nothing but cooperate with us since late Friday night. We’ve got officers posted at both their houses. I imagine they won’t be ready to go back to school for a while.”

“I’d never go back,” I say.

“Normalcy helps sometimes,” Barresi explains.

I nod, not wanting to contradict the sergeant in his own office. But inwardly I’m thinking the only thing I can think. For those girls, just like the classmates who saw Jaycee Dugard attacked on the street in front of them, just like Gray Benson, who watched his best friend vanish into nowhere, normalcy was going to be off the table for a long time, maybe even for good.

(twenty-six)

Eve Nichol’s house is part of a sleepy and serene residential neighborhood about a mile from the town center. The block has been roped off, so we park nearby, crossing through Wickersham Park under leafy elms and plane trees. I can picture it as it should be, full of shrieking children on the lopsided jungle gym and swing sets, mothers gossiping on the wooden benches and at the picnic tables. Today, there isn’t a soul anywhere.

Police tape has been strung through the picket fencing surrounding the small blue-gray bungalow in the center of the block, cute and kept up, but otherwise indistinctive, with white trim and a large bay window. Potted flowers droop on the front porch. The mailbox is stuffed with Safeway circulars. It’s any house in any small town in America, except it isn’t.

We don’t need to knock. The door stands wide open, two uniformed officers from the Petaluma PD posted just beyond. Will flashes his badge and drops Barresi’s name. He’s called ahead for us, which makes everything easier. Apparently Eve and daughter Annie have gone to stay with friends nearby. A humane decision, I think. Two CSI officers are processing Polly’s room—still or again. The kitchen has been turned into temporary headquarters for the FBI team, led by Rod Fraser.

“Good to see you, Anna,” he says, grabbing my hand with his, warm and solid. He’s heavier than I remember, and his hairline has receded. Ten years can do that. “Wish it could be under happier circumstances.”

“Me too,” I say, though truthfully “happy” is relative in our line of work.