“When the light in the hallway goes off.”

Claire checked the penciled dates against her typed index sheet.

Every last pencil timestamp on page four lined up with the automatic telephone switch cutoffs logged at the central office.

“She kept a written record of every night he locked her room from the outside,” Claire said.

Sarah turned the pink notebook over in her hands.

“Pendelton’s going to say an eight-year-old made these drawings up.”

“Not when the phone company’s computers logged the exact same minute three miles away,” Claire said.