The phone lay beside Rachel’s fruit bowl like an object from another person’s life.

It was smaller than mine, black with a scratched case and a strip of pale tape along the side.

Lily stood in the doorway waiting to see whether I was angry.

“Sweetheart,” I said, “I’m glad you told us where it was.

But please don’t take or hide anything like that again.

If you find something scary, come straight to a safe adult.”

Her expression fell.