Wrapping my jacket around me, fending off the chill of the springtime air, I stared down at the track as members of the girls’ track team gathered. The sky was blue, yet the early April sun held little warmth. At least it wasn’t snowing, I thought, as I took in the greening grass. Trees were beginning to sprout blossoms and leaves.

Often Byron would arrange his schedule to attend Renee’s track meets. Today wasn’t one of those times. I smiled as parents I recognized waved and nodded, some carrying blankets. Through the years there had been reassurance in that many of the children who’d first met in kindergarten were still together. Though their interests varied, they’d remained friends. As Renee got older, I’d become a Girl Scout leader and active in the PTO. Byron worried that I was bringing too much attention to us, but in my mind, it was my way to stay involved and protect Renee from within.

Those girls, including Renee, who were scheduled next to run, were unzipping their sweats and pulling sweatshirts over their heads. Like many of her teammates, Renee’s hair was pulled back to a high ponytail. Throwing her sweatshirt to the side of the track, she reached up and tightened her ponytail tie. I knew from experience that when she ran, her hair would swish back and forth.

My back stiffened as a vaguely familiar man took the seat near me on the bleachers. My mind tried to place him as a parent of one of Renee’s classmates. I was coming up empty. Then again, the parents from all the participating schools were seated together. Maybe he was the father of one of the opponents.

My skin prickled with an uneasy feeling as he scooted closer.

I wished I could lose the sense of dread that accompanied me night and day over the last fifteen years. I longed to enjoy the life we’d created and not fear that at any moment it could be ripped out from under us.

What would it be like to not wake multiple times a night in a cold sweat with images of Allister Sparrow in my head?

After all of this time, I couldn’t imagine.

It wasn’t that Mr. Sparrow personally visited us through the years, but he’d sent subtle messages, enough to let us know he was watching. We’d continued to do as he instructed, sending Renee’s school picture each year to the post office box. The address was the same as when she’d first been given to us, as was ours. We lived in the same house.

The man sitting beside me nodded toward the track as the girls readied themselves in the starting blocks. Renee was in the lane closest to the field, farther back than her teammates and opponents. It was an optical illusion—the way the different lanes appeared. Each lane farther from the field was just that much longer than its neighbor.

“One of those yours?” he asked.

I flinched as at the same moment he spoke, the starting gun sounded, echoing through the cool air, and the girls began to run.

“Excuse me?” I replied, my mind on Renee as she pushed herself, her bare legs below her running shorts straining and arms pumping with a baton in her grasp.

This was Chicago in the spring. It seemed like track uniforms could be warmer.

“She’s grown up nice,” the man said, his eyes too on the track.

I turned his way. “I’m sorry, do we know one another.” I couldn’t place him.

I stood and clapped as Renee came around the track and passed the baton to a teammate. Breathing heavily, she looked up to the stands and smiled. Her soft brown eyes glowed with pride. The baton hand-off was the hardest part of a relay for her, and she’d done it perfectly. Her teammate was significantly ahead of the pack.

The last runner in a relay was usually the fastest. As the first, Renee’s job was to keep them in the running. No pun intended.

As I sat down, the man turned to me. “What was that cat’s name?”

My stomach twisted as a cold chill ran through me. “Sir, I’m certain you’re mistaken.”

“Kitty,” he said with a nod. “Big gray one.”

The next hand-off had happened, but my eyes were no longer on the track. I turned to the man, my blood boiling. “If you have something to say or a message to deliver, do it and leave.”

“Just checking up. She’s gotten real pretty, that one. There are always opportunities for her, you know, if things don’t work out.”

Another perfect hand-off, yet I wasn’t seeing the relay as my stomach was revolting at his suggestion.

My neck straightened as my mind was besieged by memories of Neal’s childhood stories. It didn’t take a genius to know that his mother had talked up his abilities in math and other attributes to keep him out of what could happen to children in the Sparrow outfit. I wasn’t talking about the children of people in the outfit. I meant children they acquired. Selling a prostitute’s boy wasn’t beneath them and she knew it.

The race ended, Renee’s foursome the victors.

After standing and clapping, I sat again and turned this man’s direction. With my jaw clenched I stared at this man—my gaze unblinking. As I did, I now recognized him. He was the census taker when Renee had been young. “Things are working out just fine,” I said. “Leave us alone.”

“Just doing my job, ma’am.” He pulled a toothpick from his pocket and placed it between his teeth. “Watching her daddy too. There are lots of moving parts. Sometimes they crash.”

“Byron is doing everything he was told.”

“Not talking about that one.”

I shook my head. “Then tell me, what is your job? Is it to intimidate me? Is it to scare me? As I said, my husband and I are doing everything we were told to do. She’s loved and cared for. What someone else does isn’t up to us. If your boss has a concern, voice it. Otherwise, leave us alone.”

We sat in silence for a few minutes until I turned to see Renee, now wearing the team’s long pants and sweatshirt, coming my way, climbing higher and higher between people as her cleats clicked upon the metal bleachers. She was already taller than me by quite a few inches and nearly as tall as Byron.

“Go away now, or I’ll scream,” I whispered to the man.

“Not a good idea.”

Taking a drink from a water bottle, Renee sat on my other side. “Did you see the baton pass?”

I laid my hand on her knee. “Of course, I did. It was perfect. You did great. Good job. Do you know your time yet?” I was talking fast, trying to keep her attention on me.

“No, the coach said she’d get them to us later.” She leaned forward, looking around me. “Hi.”

The man nodded. “Nice to see you again.”

“This man was just leaving,” I said.

He stood. “Until next time. Stay safe.”

Once he was gone, Renee leaned closer and whispered. “Who was that? He seemed kind of creepy.”

“If you ever see him again, let me know.”

“I don’t remember seeing him before,” she said.

“Still, will you promise?”

“Sure, Mom.” She smiled again. “I need to get back down to the team.”

I reached for her hand. “Seriously, Renee, that hand-off was great.”

A glow of pink filled her cheeks, a mixture of the cool air, sunshine, and her reaction to my praise. “Thanks, Mom.”