“Mrs. Higgins, what happened?” Kenneth asked, taking two hurried steps toward the trembling woman.

She parted her dry lips, but only a dry rasp emerged from her throat. Her eyes darted frantically between Kenneth, my kneeling figure by the wall, and the open threshold of Owen’s bedroom.

PART 3

At the end of the hallway stood Dr. Vance.

He had returned so quietly that none of us had heard his shoes against the marble. In one hand he held a leather medical bag.

In the other, his phone. His expression was different from the indignation he had displayed downstairs. This time he looked alert, almost calculating.

“Eleanor,” he said to Mrs. Higgins, using her first name in a tone that made it sound like a warning.

“I thought I told you to keep the corridor clear.”

Kenneth turned. “You told her what?”

“Only that the boys need rest. I don’t want people disturbing them with speculative questions.”

Eleanor’s eyes lowered. I noticed a pale rectangle on her apron where a name badge had recently been removed.

She seemed afraid not of losing her job but of something much worse.