Nico coughed. "Urn, Ms. Castellan?"

 

"Mm?"

 

"We need to ask you about your son."

 

"Oh, yes! They told me he would never come back. But I knew better." She patted

my cheek affectionately, giving me peanut butter racing stripes.

 

"When did you last see him?" Nico asked.

 

Her eyes lost focus.

 

"He was so young when he left," she said wistfully. "Third grade. That's too

young to run away! He said he'd be back for lunch. And 1 waited. He likes peanut

butter sandwiches and cookies and Kool-Aid.

 

He'll be back for lunch very soon. ..." Then she looked at me and smiled. "Why,

Luke, there you are!

 

You look so handsome. You have your father's eyes."

 

She turned toward the pictures of Hermes above the sink. "Now, there's a good

man. Yes, indeed. He comes to visit me, you know."