We turned onto the main road and a dark SUV pulled out of a side street, headlights swinging in behind us.

“Avery.” Grandpa’s eyes were on the mirror. “Your father didn’t only leave Caleb behind. He hired an investigator to watch the house. We’re being followed.”

The snow was coming in waves now, the wipers losing ground. The SUV closed up and rode my bumper, trying to push me over.

If they stop us, I thought, hands locked on the wheel, if they get a photograph of an eighty-two-year-old man out in a blizzard, that’s the whole case.

That’s the wandering. The trap closes on its own.