Two years after the mall, I took Lily back to Brookfield — not because she asked, but because avoiding the building had given it too much power. She was five by then, taller and talkative again.

We entered through another door and paused beside the large directory.

“Mommy stays with me,” she said.

“Yes.”

She held my hand. We visited the bookstore, ate lunch in the food court, and chose a birthday present for one of her cousins. Near the end of our visit, we passed the security office.

Mr. Ellis still worked there. After I introduced myself, he recognized my name.