“His name was Daniel.”
Then an elderly man at the counter turned around.
“He wasn’t Daniel.”
Everyone looked at him.
“He told me his real name once.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“What was it?”
The old man studied my face.
“Caleb.”
My knees weakened.
“He said his mother loved blueberry pie.”
I started crying.
Caleb had always teased me because mine was terrible.
Too much lemon.
Not enough sugar.
The old man continued.
“He also said he couldn’t go home.”
“Why?”
“He thought someone was watching his family.”
“Who?”
“He never said.”
“Where did he go?”
The man pointed toward the window.
“There’s a woman named Mara who picked him up the last night.”
“Mara who?”
“Mara Reed.”
Samuel Reed’s daughter.
The veterinarian’s daughter.
Once again, every road led back to the same small circle.
And this time, I knew we were close.
PART 7 — THE WOMAN WHO HID CALEB TOLD ME WHY HE NEVER CAME HOME
Mara Reed lived beside the Canadian border in a white farmhouse surrounded by apple trees.
She opened the door before we knocked.
She was forty.
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