After Nine-Year-Old Sadie Called Munich, Walter Hensley Drove Through the Snow

“Is everything all right over in Munich?”

“Mary, I need you to do something for me right now,” I said, holding my breath.

“Please go to your front window and look across the street at my back porch.”

I heard the faint swish of Mary’s living room curtains sliding along their metal rod.

“I’m looking right now, Valerie,” Mary said, her slow, careful way of speaking calm and steady.

“The porch light’s off, but the moon is shining on the frozen mud by the garage.”