His face had gone pale.
“Mom…”
I ran toward him.
Inside the large metal box were several thick bundles of cash.
Beside them lay a work identification badge with a woman’s photograph.
There was also a key with a bright plastic tag attached to it.
And a wedding photograph.
Noah stared at me.
“Someone left all their important stuff here.”
His eyes moved back to the money.
Then to the badge.
Then to the key.
“Mom, call the police.”
Before I could answer, a woman shouted from near the sidewalk.
“Wait! Please don’t!”
I spun around.
A woman was hurrying toward us with both hands raised.
She looked to be in her thirties.
She was laughing breathlessly.
And she had Down syndrome.
Several other adults stood just beyond our hedge.
Hannah was among them.
So was Lucy.
And Lucy was still wearing the red dress.
The woman reached the yard.
