I had been considering keeping the kids home from school today, but if Enzo and I are both going to the police station, there’s no way to do that. I’m not bringing my children to a police station. My wish is that neither of them ever have to set foot in a police station for their entire lives. (Except possibly for a school trip. That would be okay, I suppose.)

Even Nico manages to get ready for school without much protest or fuss. They are both uncharacteristically silent while they choke down a few bites of cereal, which seems appropriate given the gravity of what happened. I haven’t been walking them to the bus stop in the morning, but I do it today, just to make sure everything goes smoothly.

Unfortunately, Janice and Spencer are waiting at the bus stop when we arrive. Janice is wearing her usual nightgown and slippers, and it takes all my self-restraint not to wrap my fingers around her skinny little neck. This woman basically told the police she thought my husband killed a man. That’s not exactly neighborly.

We don’t say one word to each other while we wait for the bus to arrive. And that’s fine with me.

“Mommy,” Nico says. It pulls on my heartstrings because he hasn’t called me that in years. “Do I have to go to school today?”

I wish I could keep him with me, close to my side. But that’s impossible. “I’m sorry, honey. I have something I need to do.”

“Can I go with you?” “I I’m afraid not.”

His lower lip trembles slightly. Nico hasn’t cried in public in a long time, but I’m worried it’s about to happen.

“I’m so sorry,” I say quickly. “But I’ll be home when you get back from school. I promise.”

“Can I play with Spencer?” he asks hopefully.

Spencer’s eyes light up at the suggestion. “Can we, Mama?”

Janice looks like she’s about to have a stroke. I’m not thrilled about the idea either after what Janice said to the police about my husband, although I’d allow it just to make Nico feel better. But that doesn’t seem like a possibility.

“Spencer,” Janice says sharply. “I told you after Nicolas was suspended from school for fighting that you were not to spend time with him ever again.”

Wait, what?

I barely have time to be furious with Janice for talking like that right in front of Nico. Because what she just said can’t be right. Nico went over to Spencer’s house the day before the beach trip. And a few times since then as well. At least that’s what he told me

“Nico,” I say sharply, “I thought Mrs. Archer said you could play in the backyard with Spencer?”

“I said no such thing!” she barks. “Did I, Spencer?”

Spencer nods in agreement, eager to please, and that’s when a look of guilt comes over my son’s face. Janice never told him he could play in their backyard. And considering how vigilant she is, there’s no way he was playing there with Spencer without her knowledge. So that means

“Nico, come over here.” I tug him by the arm until we are several yards away, and he dutifully follows. I drop my voice enough that Janice won’t hear me. “Where have you been going when you leave the house?”

“Nowhere,” he says quickly. “I’ve just been playing out on the street.

Alone.”

Except if that’s all he was doing, why did he lie about it?

“I just wanted to be alone,” he adds. “I didn’t want you to worry.”

I don’t believe him. There’s something more to this story that he’s not telling me. But at that moment, the school bus arrives, and this time, Nico is only too eager to climb aboard. I watch as the bus carries my

children away, wondering if I will ever get answers to the questions swirling around my head.