My Neighbor Knocked in the Rain and Told Me to Take My Granddaughter Across the Street—From His Window, I Watched My Own Son Enter My House

I called Beatriz Hayes.

She had helped Camille establish Rosalind’s trust.

Beatriz was practical to the point of discomfort.

When I showed her the notes, she said:

“Stop confronting them.”

“I haven’t.”

“Good.”

“What do I do?”