“I’m dispatching a patrol unit to check the perimeter.

What is your full name?”

“Diane Whitaker,” I said.

Rachel didn’t wait to hear the rest.

She reached across the laminate counter, grabbed her car keys off the brass hook by the stove, and pointed her pen straight at my chest.

“Get your jacket,” Rachel said, her voice dropping into the strict command tone she had used when we were young.

“We’re going back to Columbus right now.”