I recognized her voice from the choir concert where our children had stood beneath the stage lights, Autumn singing beautifully and Noah waiting near the sound equipment.

“Rebecca, I hope you know I’m not calling to ask you for money,” she said immediately.

“I know.”

“The officers said Noah tried to help.

I’m grateful.

But Autumn is having a terrible week, and I don’t want the whole town turning her into a story.”

“Neither do I.”

There was a pause.