9
Where did they go at night? I had been watching the logs, not only in my cottage but in the others, when I could find a reason to look at them, or when no one was around. The New Year had ticked past and we had settled into an icy January. The logs were brought each afternoon to the casework office to be reviewed by the supervisor, and I paged through them then. On Friday nights, and on Wednesday nights, a few late returns. I read back through a few months, looking for patterns. Michael and Cesar, always together, were late once every third week; they’d spend the following two weeks serving out their restrictions and be free again in time for the cycle to repeat itself. Some boys were AWOL for whole weekends, but usually those boys’ workers knew where they had been. ‘His grandma’s place
