“Who’s calling?” “My name is Sal,” he said.

“I own the diner.

Where Caleb works, washing dishes.” I gripped the edge of my desk.

“Yes,” I said.

“Of course.

Is everything all right?” There was a pause, and then he said, carefully, “I need to talk to you about your son.”

My heart began to pound.

“Did he do something wrong?” There was another pause, longer this time, a silence with real weight in it, the silence of a man choosing his words very carefully because he understands he is about to change the ground under someone’s feet.