In the back seat, Lucy didn’t ask any more questions.

Within ten minutes, the rhythm of the tires on the wet pavement had rocked her to sleep.

Her head tipped back against the headrest, her chin resting on her coat collar, her little fingers twisting the loose thread on her dress cuff while her other hand clutched the stuffed rabbit.

I kept my right hand on the steering wheel, my wrists steady, driving forty miles an hour through the light snow.

My phone, sitting in its plastic dashboard mount next to the air vents, chimed twice and lit up with a bright blue alert.