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“I had a call. The people who used to live here. They didn’t call me, but they called the lady, the one we got the place from? And then she got in touch with me. When those people moved out, they forgot to take that box of trains with them. So we’re going to have to pack them up so they can be shipped to wherever they live now.”

Charlie stared at her.

“What?” she said.

“They really said that?” he asked.

Annie wondered whether she had a tell. A facial tic, something Charlie could read in her expression that would give her away, that he would spot and know she was lying.

“Yes,” she said.

He nodded slowly. “Oh well,” he said. “They were fun to play with while I had them.”

Annie smiled. “When we get home, we’ll look into replacing them. A brand-new train set. What do you think about that?”

“I guess.”

If he was excited, Annie thought, he was doing a good job of hiding it. But at least he didn’t fight her. She believed that by tomorrow he’d be on board with leaving. If it weren’t for the fact that she hated driving at night—even if Sherpa would be happy to guide her—she’d pack up the car and go right now.

She’d just put Charlie to bed when she heard a car pulling up to the house. When Annie went out onto the porch, Candace was getting out of her car.

“It’s just so awful,” Candace said, standing at the foot of the porch steps, then stepping up onto the first one.

Annie did not feel inclined to invite her in and stood at the center of the top step, as though blocking the woman’s path.

“Yes,” Annie said.

“The police came to see me. It’s all my fault.”

Annie waited.

“Mr. Sproule was in touch, asked me to leave a key in the mailbox in case you weren’t here when he arrived.” Her chin quivered. “I shouldn’t have done that. I had the best of intentions.”

The road to hell, Annie thought.

“He was so excited about coming to see you, to bring you some New York treats. If I had known, if I’d had any idea—”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“And I came to tell you that I’m so sorry that Bert—he’s my handyman—hasn’t been by to install the chains, but he got swamped with some other projects and has promised to come by tomorrow, and—”

“We’re leaving.”

“You’re what?”

“First thing tomorrow. We’re packing up and going home.”

Candace nodded slowly. “I can’t blame you for that. I wish things had turned out differently.”

There was something in the back of Annie’s mind, something she had been meaning to ask Candace about.

“The photographers,” Annie said. “The ones who were here last.”

“Yes?”

“Why did they leave?”

Candance looked uncomfortable. “Sometimes people want a change.”