Inside the office, Tessa sat in a chair with a blanket around her shoulders, a juice box untouched in her hand. Caleb stood beside her, pale and shaking, and a police officer was writing in a notebook. My knees nearly gave out. “Mom,” Tessa said quickly, “he did not do anything wrong.” I turned to Denise, confused, and she softly closed the door behind us.

Caleb stepped forward, holding a crumpled envelope. “I was going to tell you tonight,” he said, his voice cracking. “On the drive, a car followed us for twenty minutes. When I stopped at the gate, the driver got out and tried to take Tessa. I stepped in, and he ran.” The officer nodded. “He has been caught on camera, ma’am, and Mr. Caleb may have saved her.” Then Tessa whispered, “Mom, I think I know who he is.”