It skidded across the wet pavement and flattened against a patch of gravel near the edge of the lawn.

I walked down the driveway to the spot where her car had been parked.

The paper was a page torn out of a yellow legal pad, folded once down the middle.

A grease smear crossed one corner where her tire had pressed it into the driveway.

I bent down and picked the sheet up by its clean edge.

The handwriting was Caroline’s sharp, forward-leaning print, written in dark blue ballpoint ink.

Across the top of the yellow page ran a heading underlined two times: Child Safety and Welfare Intake – Key Points.