I stopped touching the patch. “What man?”
“The one who knows Dad.”
Ryan had been dead for three years. Lately, Ethan had been asking more questions about him. He’d even asked me twice that week to take him to the storage unit where I kept Ryan’s things. I’d promised we would go when I had time.
I grabbed my phone.
The police dispatcher told me not to remove the object and asked whether Ethan and I were somewhere safe. I said we were home.
She told me to lock the doors and wait for officers.
Twenty minutes later, two police cars pulled up outside.
Officer Patel examined the patch without touching it, then crouched in front of Ethan. “Can you tell me about this man?”
Ethan looked at me before answering.
He’d seen the man near school several times.
The first time, he’d shown Ethan an old photograph of himself standing beside Ryan.
