“So you ran.”

“I only had minutes.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I drove for hours trying to think of somewhere safe.”

I shook my head. “But why my house?”

Sabrina looked directly at me. “Because twenty years ago…” She swallowed hard. “…it was my home.”

I blinked. “What?”

Sabrina reached into her bag and pulled out a worn photograph. She slid it across the table. I picked it up. A much younger version of me smiled back, my arm wrapped around a thin little girl missing her front teeth.