She had gotten there early to drop Molly off, wrestling to contain the little girl’s excitement and her nervousness for her big day. Her little goblin’s recent mood swings had been almost intolerable. Clara almost relished the time when she could just be in the parade and actually made to do something productive instead of driving her mom crazy.

It was so much quieter without her now, Clara standing alone on a curb in front of a closed-off downtown street. So quiet and calm. And in the quiet, she felt the flip side of having Molly somewhere else. She felt worry. Especially after the events of last week, Clara had grown to not trust things. She’d become more nervous about crowds and big events, but was trying so hard not to let it show to Molly. It wasn’t worth it to pass on her anxieties. It was some sort of PTSD, she was sure. She’d get over it. She’d go see someone, have it looked at someday. But for now, she needed to toughen up. She had to at least try to trust again, to not expect the worst in every situation.

But that would be a lot fucking easier if Sam were there with her.

And he knew that.

So where the hell was he?

Gripping her cell firmly in her hand, she nearly dropped it in relief when it finally rang. She answered without even looking at it, ready to ask how long it would take him get down to the parade. It was set to start in less than half an hour.

“Hey,” she said, taking her time to get right into it. She didn’t want an argument. They had been too close to those in the last twenty-four hours. There had been something different about Sam, a change since their night at the hotel. He’d been distant, preoccupied. Working, yes. Maybe this was how he’d always worked. She’d never seen him in action before.

“Clara, it’s me. It’s Vivian.”

For a second, the word, the sound, made no sense to her. She could only think of Sam, and she needed him there.

“Vivian?” she said slowly, her mind taking its time to work and remember who the hell Vivian was. “Oh,” she said. “Vivian, yeah, hi.”

“Hi, Clara, how are you feeling?”

“I feel . . . normal.” She laughed at the ridiculousness of it. It was hardly true. Despite her now complete recovery from the exposure, Clara was feeling extremely not normal today. She was a nervous fucking wreck.

“God, I feel so bad,” Vivian said. “I mean, I’m just so lucky that I didn’t come down with any of the symptoms. It’s like survivor’s guilt.”

Clara tried to laugh it off. “Well, we all survived, so, we’re all feeling guilty.”

“Yeah, but you were really sick. I just got lucky.”

Clara watched two police officers walking down the center line of the road. “Yeah,” she said.

“What it did do was it gave me some time, while you were in the hospital, to go over your case with Kurt. I felt it was the least I could do.”

“Oh, Vivian, no. You’ve already done so much. You’ve been so helpful.”

“Well, thanks,” Vivian said. But her voice was sounding a little strange now. “Um . . .”

“What is it?” Clara felt the vague sense of dread, like she was on the verge of hearing some really bad news.

“Clara, I just came across some new information.”

“Bad information?”

“Well, just . . . information. You know Kurt was arrested again, right?”

“Yeah.”

“They had him in the downtown jail.”

“Okay.”

“Well, um, my friend is a bail bondsman. And apparently Kurt got bailed out an hour ago.”

“What?” Kurt always had an air of danger around him, even when things had gotten bad when they were still married. But now there was more. An unknown, a scary one, too. Scary, especially now with him on drugs, and his head probably all fucked up, and having just been released a few blocks away.

Vivian spoke again. “He was in the downtown jail. And I know you’re probably there with Molly, right?”

“Yeah, she’s in the parade.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“But he doesn’t know that. Right? How would he know that?”

“Well, I’m sure he doesn’t. But he’ll be in your area. On foot.”

The words sent chills down Clara’s spine. Him, on foot. Creeping around. The smell of prison and crack smoke probably still on him. And he was coming around to what was supposed to be Clara and Molly’s special day. An innocent little Christmas parade. What a fucking nightmare . . .

“So I just wanted to give you a heads-up,” Vivian said. “Okay?”

“Thanks, Vivian.”

“Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m not too worried.” Big-time lie. “I’m just . . . I’m just thankful for the heads-up. And everything else you’ve done. You’ve been so amazing.”

“Is Sam with you?”

Clara looked around the crowd for a moment, not seeing a single familiar face. “Uh . . . Yeah.”

“Oh. Well, you’ve got nothing to worry about, then.”

“Yeah.”