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themselves with stuff they clung to. Even the air in the room was a level of stale that suggested the window hadn’t been opened in a decade. It was going to take a ton of work to clear the place out to sell it. At least it wasn’t his childhood home he’d inherited. He wouldn’t have been able to handle going back to the house that held so many horrific memories.

Flopping down on the beige couch, he folded his hands behind his head as exhaustion clawed at him, his eyes scratchy from lack of sleep. But the thought of letting go made his blood run cold. The nightmares had returned—more terrifying than ever. Plunging him to depths of despair only previously hinted at, causing him to wake up, night after night, soaked in sweat and screaming. Only this time it wasn’t his father igniting the fear inside him—it was Tom.

He couldn’t stay in this house for long. He couldn’t risk his neighbors discovering any more about him than he had already divulged. He would take a couple of months, at most, to figure out a more sustainable, long-term plan for himself and Henry, and then he would put the house up for sale and disappear. Moving here had been somewhat irrational, but he’d had to act quickly. This had been the only real option open to him at short notice. He couldn’t have returned to his home in Richmond under the circumstances. What he really needed was a place to settle down where no one knew him, or anything about his past—unlike Sonia Masterton and her mother, both of whom displayed a disturbing affinity for sniffing out things best kept buried.

He reached for the musty, pin-tuck cushion behind his head and punched it, wriggling onto his side to get more comfortable. As he lay there, listening for any indication that Henry was on the move, he mulled over his next steps, his eyes growing increasingly heavy.

He woke with a start, bolting upright on the couch, not knowing for a moment where he was. His eyes bulged at the sight of Henry standing in the darkened doorway, staring at him. In his right hand, he clutched the toy truck Ray had bought him at a Target store on the way here.

“What are you doing out of bed, Henry?” he asked, struggling to keep the irritation from creeping into his voice. “It’s time to go to sleep.” He rubbed a sleeve across his sweaty forehead as he got to his feet, resigning himself to repeating the process of putting Henry to bed for what probably wouldn’t be the last time that night.

Henry stuck his thumb in his mouth, before trotting back down the hallway to his bedroom. Ray followed him and lifted him into bed, tucking the covers in around him. “How about you set your truck on the nightstand,” he said.

Henry let out a whimper, hugging the toy to his chest.

Ray was too weary to entertain another meltdown. He kissed Henry gently on the forehead. “All right, you hold onto it. Good night, Henry.”

He didn’t respond, his luminous brown eyes fixed on the ceiling above. Ray turned off the overhead light, leaving the room bathed in the soft glow from the rotating nightlight he had purchased after realizing Henry was never going to be able to sleep in complete darkness.

He hesitated in the hallway, peering around the door to make sure Henry stayed in bed this time. Groaning inwardly, he watched him wriggle out from beneath the duvet and slide his feet to the floor with a dull thunk, his truck firmly in his grasp. He crawled over to the outlet where the nightlight was plugged in and watched it, slack-jawed, the light reflecting shadows of galloping horses across his face with each rotation.

After a few minutes, he turned his attention to his truck, pushing it back-and-forth across the floor as he sang softly to himself. Ray strained to pick up the words.

”Ne-ver … tell … them. Ne-ver … tell … them.”

5

Sonia shrugged off her coat and tossed her keys and purse onto the kitchen counter. She had just finished overseeing the final touches of a kitchen installation for a young professional couple who were expecting the arrival of twin daughters any day now. Timing had been critical, under the circumstances, and Sonia was proud of what she’d managed to pull off for them, despite the rush and their limited budget. Their emotional reaction—dissolving into tears in each other’s arms at the big reveal—had been worth the long hours she’d put in to hit all the right notes on their ambitious wish list.

Hunger pangs gnawing, she pulled open the refrigerator door and assessed her options for lunch. After settling on a turkey-and-arugula sandwich, she made her way into the family room and sat down in front of the television, scrolling through the menu for something mindless to watch while she ate. An hour of relaxation was in order before she tackled the invoices and emails stacking up in her office. Her mother had gone to visit a friend and Sonia had promised to pick her up when she made the school run at three. Until then, she had the house to herself.

Her thoughts inevitably drifted to her reclusive, new neighbor. Despite extending several more invitations to dinner, and attempting to set up another playdate for Henry, she hadn’t seen much of him in the past week or two, other than a fleeting glance as he hurried in and out to his car. It seemed he wanted nothing to do with them now that the obligatory introductions were behind him. Maybe her mother was right—he was only interested in them when he needed something.

Her suspicions that he was hiding something had gone into overdrive the night Jessica dropped the bombshell about Ray not being Henry’s real dad. After some prodding, Sonia had managed to dig a little more information out of Jessica.

“I asked Henry what his favorite thing to do with

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