I kept my voice soft and even, the same careful tone I used when I was sorting out freight shipping mistakes at the warehouse.

“Did he go down the hall to your bedroom all three times?”

“Just two times.” Bennett stopped rolling his denim cuff and looked up at the electric wall clock.

“Aunt Lauren told me to stay in the living room, but Mr.

Vance asked me to help him carry a box.”

“What sort of box was it?”

“It was heavy and dark gray,” he said, his serious little voice dropping so low I had to lean over the table to hear him.

“He had a blue paper.