“Exactly.”

“Where is he?”

Marcus hesitated.

“What?”

“He left Portland in July.”

My jaw tightened.

“Where?”

“Seattle first. Then Spokane. There are card charges in Boise.”

“He left the state?”

“Yes.”

“After leaving Emma here.”

“Yes.”

My hands flattened against the desk.

Marcus continued.

“There’s more.”

Of course there was.

“Rebecca had a small life-insurance policy.”

“How small?”

“Sixty thousand.”

“Beneficiary?”

“Emma.”

I looked up.

Marcus slid another paper toward me.

“The payout was deposited into an account opened two weeks after Rebecca died.”

“In Emma’s name?”

“Joint custodial account.”

“With whom?”

Marcus didn’t answer immediately.

He didn’t need to.

“Greg.”

“He apparently presented paperwork claiming he was her appointed guardian.”

“Was it real?”

“No.”

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

“He forged documents.”

“Looks that way.”

“How much is left?”

“Less than eight thousand.”

I stared at him.

Sixty thousand dollars.

A dead mother’s last attempt to protect her child.

Gone.

While Emma searched for crackers near a fountain.

“Find him.”

“We are.”

“No. I mean find him tonight.”

Marcus shifted his weight.

“Daniel, before you decide—”

“I know what you’re thinking.”

“Do you?”

“You think I’m going to do something stupid.”

“I think you’re furious.”

“I am.”

“And furious men make expensive mistakes.”

I stood.

“Greg abandoned a six-year-old in a city park and stole money her dying mother left to keep her alive.”

“I know.”

“She slept outside while he spent it.”

“I know.”

“She apologized for eating a cookie.”

Marcus was silent.

That was the detail.

The one that finally changed his face.

I walked toward the window.

Portland glowed below us.

Thousands of lights.

Thousands of homes.

Somewhere out there, people were sitting at dinner tables, complaining about rain and traffic and homework.

And for months, Emma had been sleeping behind a maintenance building.

My phone buzzed.

Natalie.

I answered immediately.

“Emma’s asleep,” she said.

“I know.”

“I need to tell you something before I leave.”

“What?”

“She asked whether she could hide under the bed if someone came to take her.”

I closed my eyes.

Natalie continued softly.

“Daniel, whatever happens next, don’t make this about punishing Greg.”

I looked at Marcus.

He knew exactly what she was saying.

“Make it about Emma.”

After she hung up, I stayed silent.

Marcus finally asked, “What do you want me to do?”

I looked toward the ceiling.

Toward the guest room with stars around the door.

“Find Greg.”

“And then?”

“Nothing.”

Marcus raised an eyebrow.

“Nothing?”

“We give everything to Natalie, my attorney, and the police.”

“You sure?”

“No.”

That was the truth.

“But Emma needs a future more than I need revenge.”

Marcus nodded.

His phone vibrated.

He checked the screen.

Then looked at me.

“We found him.”

“Where?”

“Not Boise.”

A pause.

“He came back to Portland this afternoon.”

Something cold moved through me.

“Why?”

“We don’t know.”

Marcus looked at the staircase.

“But Daniel?”

“Yes?”

“He checked into a motel under a false name.”

My eyes narrowed.

“And twenty minutes ago, someone matching his description asked a bartender whether anyone had seen a little girl named Emma.”

Upstairs, the house was silent.

Emma was finally sleeping somewhere warm.

And the man who had abandoned her had returned.

Not because he missed her.

Men who missed children did not wait four months.

I looked at Marcus.

“Double security.”

He nodded.

“And nobody tells Emma yet.”

Another nod.

I walked upstairs.

Outside her room, one of the glow-in-the-dark stars had fallen onto the carpet.

I picked it up.

Pressed it back above her door.

Then I heard a tiny voice.

“Daniel?”

Emma was sitting up.

“You okay?”

“Is somebody coming?”

I entered.

“No.”

She watched me carefully.

“You promise?”

I sat at the edge of the bed.

For years, people had believed my promises because they feared what happened if I broke them.

Emma needed a different kind of promise.

“One day,” I said quietly, “you’re going to sleep without wondering who’s coming through the door.”

She stared at me.

“When?”

I looked at the stars glowing above us.

“As soon as I can make it true.”

What I did not tell her was that Gregory Mason was back in Portland.

Or that before the next sunset, he would try to convince the city that Emma belonged to him.

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