“We’re looking for him.”

“Find him, if he’s alive.

And find anyone who knows her history.

There may be a medication she was supposed to be taking.”

Natalie took out a folded paper from Ashley’s kitchen.

It was the appointment note.

Below the reminder, in letters she had missed under the dim flashlight beam, was a telephone number and the name of a pediatric clinic.

She called.

A recorded greeting answered.

She left a message identifying herself and requesting an urgent callback from the on-call service.

Inside the treatment room, Ashley stirred.

Her hand searched the blanket until Natalie returned the worn puppy.

“Did Daddy get lost?” Ashley whispered.

“We’re looking for him,” Natalie answered, careful not to promise what she could not know.