“No one ever found her.”
The soup on the table had gone completely cold.
I looked at the photograph again.
Lucas’s young face.
Melanie’s small hand clutching the rabbit.
The adults on the porch, frozen in a moment that suddenly felt less like a family picture and more like evidence.
“Why would Melanie tell you to ask me?” I said.
“I don’t know.”
But I heard it in Grace’s voice.
She was afraid she did know.
The doorbell rang.
The sound tore through the house.
I stood so quickly the chair scraped the floor.
“Anne?” Grace said.
“Someone’s here.”
“Don’t open it.”
I walked toward the front hall, phone pressed to my ear.
Through the narrow glass beside the door, I saw a delivery envelope leaning against the mat.
No person.
