She went to wake her daughter.
Lily was a furnace and a tornado and an unsolved philosophical question in the morning, and Grace roused her slowly by sitting on the edge of her bed and rubbing circles between her shoulder blades until she woke.
The room was dimly lit by a small night light. Several stuffed toys were piled on the pillow beside her daughter's head.
"Time to wake up, Baby. I’m making pancakes today."
"With strawberries?"
"Absolutely."
Lily opened one eye, clearly evaluating whether strawberry pancakes justified getting up. "Okay," she declared.
She sat up, picked a seal out of the pile of stuffies beside her and tucked it under her arm, then got out of bed with the staggering dignity of a tiny queen who’d decided to permit morning to come.
A few minutes later, Lily sat at the kitchen table in her unicorn pajamas with the seal propped against the napkin holder where it could supervise her consumption of pancakes and strawberries.
"Mommy, who came into my room last night?"
Grace froze.
She kept her hand on the spatula. She kept her shoulders even. She kept the corners of her mouth in the same place they had been a second ago. But her insides felt completely hollow. "Why do you ask, Sweetie?"
"Cinnabun was on the floor last night when I went to sleep. He's on my pillow now."
Grace turned the pancakes over. They hissed against the pan in exactly the way they were supposed to. "Did you pick him up in your sleep, Lovebug?"
"No."
"How do you know?"
"Because I always put him on the floor by the bed so he can watch the window and make sure no bad fairies come in. He doesn't go on the pillow because then he can't see the window around my other stuffies."
Grace lifted the pancakes onto a plate.
"Did you open your window last night, by any chance?"
"I don't know how." Lily added, "Maybe Cinnabun climbed up by himself because he wanted to be on the bed."
"Maybe." Her voice was hoarse, but thankfully, Lily didn’t seem to notice.
Lily went back to eating her pancakes.
Grace poured Lily a glass of orange juice with shaking hands. She sat at the table and watched her daughter eat. She didn’t cry. Or scream. Or do any of the things she wanted to.
She picked up her phone.
She set it back down.
She picked it up again. And this time, she texted Reno.
Something happened at the house. Lily's safe. I'm dropping her at school and then I need to see you. Tell me where to meet you.
His answer was instantaneous.
Sheriff's office. I’ll be waiting for you.
On the drive to preschool, Lily sang the alphabet four times in a row, and Grace nodded and made sounds in the right places. She dropped Lily off. Kissed her on the head twice. Watched her daughter trot in the door. Waved at the teacher who greeted Lily and ushered her inside.
