“If we leave the house at four thirty on Thursday morning, our drive time to the Aspen valley will be three hours and eighteen minutes,” Sam said quietly.

“That includes fourteen extra minutes for mountain highway road work.”

“That’s a precise calculation, Sam,” I said, pulling the knot tight across his leather boot.

“Does Ethan’s father ask for documents when he meets people?” Sam asked.

“Richard Caldwell is a retired corporate attorney,” I said, checking the tension of the laces around his ankle.

“He pays close attention to written facts and official paperwork.”

Sam turned his rubber blade guards over in his small hands, looking down at his dark blue socks.