“I’m going to call the social worker on duty, and then I’m going to call the police,” he said.

“Neither call is yours to decide about tonight.

Do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

He pulled the curtain most of the way across and stepped into the hall, and through the gap I saw him take a card out of his wallet instead of his phone, a number written on it in blue pen.

Then he said, “I have a five-year-old female, Lake Forest address, suspected nonaccidental injury,” and after that her full name, Sophia Vance, spoken slowly, the way you say a name that is going on a record.

Thomas’s pen rolled a quarter turn on the counter and stopped against the edge.