The card came with my office breakfast tray.
Plain white envelope. My name on the front in handwriting I did not recognize. I turned it over.
Andre's school address was written. Three fifteen. Come alone.
That was all.
I sat very still with my coffee going cold in front of me and the card face up on the table and felt the cold wash and move through my chest slowly, the way cold water moves through a room, finding every corner. I recognized the feeling. I had been dreading it for four years. I had built an entire life around making sure I never felt it.
He knew. Or he suspected. Either way he had already moved, and a man like Lucas DiGiallorenzo did not move slowly once he decided to move at all.
I called my mother.
She picked up on the second ring. "Julie? Is everything…" she traile
