“No, Emily,” Sarah said, reaching across to touch the child’s small wrist.

“He won’t know where the house is.”

Arthur Pendelton came into the room from the hallway with a thin leather envelope under his arm.

He stopped three feet from Claire and cleared his throat softly.

“Mrs.

Johnson,” Pendelton said.

“My client made formal false statements about your conduct as a dispatcher.”

Claire turned her head toward the defense attorney.