Chapter TwelveTHE YELLOW BOX
“What's the sound of one hand clapping? What was your name before you were born? What is it that makes you answer to your name?” Remember the koans? They don't matter now.
“Drake Dumont was his name,” Robyn said. “He was my sister's friend and they are both innocent of any charges.”
The police officers released them all for lack of evidence. They blamed Drake.
“The yellow box,” Lori cried. “It was burned in the fire. It must still be there.”
“Yes, if it survived. Do you want to look for it?”
“Yes. It's all I have left of him. He said to open it when he left for good.”
“What's in it?”
“I can't guess. He's left, though, for good this time. I'll open it if I can find it,” Lori said. She drew a deep shuddering breath and lay her head on her knees. “I can't
