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Annie had hoisted Charlie up into her arms as they walked out the front of Choo-Choo’s Trains. He was no baby anymore, and

she felt the strain on her back, but he had his arms wrapped around her neck and that was taking some of the load off.

“I saw a moose before,” Charlie said.

“I saw one, too.”

As they reached the fallen tree, Annie set Charlie down so that he could scoot under it. It was more of a struggle for her,

getting down on her knees briefly to get to the other side.

“The back of the car is all smashed in,” Charlie said, running ahead to show her.

“I know.”

She was astonished to realize she was thinking about Pierce the Penguin. She was ready to return to him, to share him with

the world again. A story was forming in her mind, but she couldn’t see it yet.

“Mom, look.”

Charlie was pointing back to the train shop. She turned and saw smoke was rising above the building. Moments later, there

were flames.

“It’s like he’s getting rid of the evidence,” Charlie said.

Not him , Annie thought. The sliver, whatever it is. It’s stepped in to clean up after him.

“I don’t think anyone’s going to be coming to put that out,” Annie said.

And just as well. Let it all burn. Let it all burn to the ground.

She got Charlie settled into the backseat. For a moment, she thought about letting him sit up front with her, so she could

reach over and touch him and squeeze his knee, even though airbag deployments were said to be risky for a child his age, figuring

if they could survive what they’d just been through, they could survive anything.

But her motherly instinct overruled her. Now was not the time to take chances. They’d come this far, don’t fuck it up now.

“Are we going back to that place?” Charlie asked.

“No, sweetheart. We’re going home.”

Not that there wasn’t some unfinished business back there in Fenelon. She’d have to let Standish know she’d found her son.

She’d need a good story to explain how she knew where to look, and why he had run away. But she was a writer. She’d use her

imagination, come up with something good. Wait for that pane of glass to materialize.

It was a noisy drive, what with the back window gone, so Annie drove with a light foot. She wanted to be able to hear Charlie

over any wind noise.

At one point, Charlie asked, “Mom, did all these things really happen?”

She wasn’t sure how to answer, because she wasn’t sure herself. “I think so, but it might be best if we never told anyone

else about it. It’s our story. But I’ll tell you one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Your dad’s so proud of you.”

“You mean, he would be proud of me?” Charlie said.

She smiled. “Both.”

They were quiet for a long time. Charlie had his eyes closed for a while, and Annie hoped he would be spared any nightmares. But they were coming. She knew they’d be inevitable.

When they got onto an interstate heading south back to New York, Charlie stirred and broke the silence. He had a question

he’d been wanting to ask his mother for some time.

“Mom,” he said tentatively.

“Yeah?”

“When we get home, and everything kind of settles down...”

“Yes?”

“Could you get me a decent bike?”

She looked at him in the mirror and smiled. “No,” she said.

Charlie didn’t think it was worth arguing about. At least not now. Maybe after a couple of weeks. There’d be plenty of time

to work on her then.

Daniel thought he smelled smoke.

He had dozed off, sitting in his chair in the living room. The whiff of something burning drifted up his nostrils and woke

him. He got up, walked out the front door, and stared in wonder at the house across the street.

There were flames coming out the skylights on the roof. Just above the studio, he was thinking. The fire spread quickly, blowing

out windows on the second floor, flames billowing out.

Daniel was wondering whether he should put in a call to the fire department, then decided against it. Something told him he

should let it burn.

Within minutes, the entire structure was fully engulfed.

Daniel sensed someone coming up behind him, and when he looked down, there were Dolores’s hands, fingers laced together across

his belly. He felt her head press up against his back.

He shifted around, put his arms around her, and his lips met hers as she tilted her head up to him.

“I love you,” he told her.

She smiled. “I’m back.”

They went inside, arm in arm, as the house across the street burned to the ground. They couldn’t say for certain, but they

thought they heard a dying whistle.