“Are you going to be all right staying in the house?”

“I have Theodore’s milk,” I said, holding my wrist for just a second before I made myself drop my hand to my side.

“And Raymond needs his broth.”

Down on the gravel drive, the officer opened the back door of the middle police car and pushed Christopher down into the vinyl back seat.

Christopher twisted around, raising his hands as far as the steel cuffs would let him.

His face pressed flat against the tinted glass of the police car window, his eyes wide and wild as the engine started.