THE MAN WHO BROUGHT PRESENTS

Rachel arrived wearing slippers.

Noah noticed because she never went anywhere in them. They were yellow, with one ear missing from the rabbit on the left foot.

She came through the office door, saw Ethan, and stopped so abruptly that Brooks moved out of her way.

"Rachel," Ethan said.

She struck him across the face.

Not hard enough to knock him down. Hard enough to make everyone hear it.

Then she put both hands on Noah's shoulders.

"Look at me."

He did.

"Are you bleeding anywhere?"

"My knee. They put something on it."

"Your head?"

"No."

She pulled him against her. Her cardigan smelled of the chicken she had been cooking.

"I called Mason's mother. She said you weren't there. I called the school. I called—"

Her voice broke.

Noah held the back of her cardigan.

"I'm sorry."

"Later. We'll talk about it later."

Over his head, she looked at her brother.

"You. Outside."

Ethan didn't argue.

They left the door open. Noah could hear Rachel crying in the corridor, though he couldn't make out the words. He had heard her cry before, after the funeral, when she thought the dishwasher was loud enough to hide it.

Brooks sat beside him without touching him.

"Would you rather she stayed?"

"She'll come back."

"Okay."

The answer came so simply that Noah looked at her.

She took out a notepad.

"You don't have to solve anything for us. But if there are things you remember about your uncle, I'd like to hear them."

Victor had a black SUV with lights under the doors. When it rained, little white shapes shone onto the pavement. Noah had once stepped on them to see if they would follow his feet.

Victor had laughed and let him do it again.

He brought gifts in shopping bags with thick rope handles. A watch Noah wasn't allowed to wear at school. A new console after the funeral. A jacket with a team logo, even though Noah had told him twice that he liked a different team.

"He asks questions," Noah said.

Brooks waited.

"About Dad. Whether he left stuff in the house. Whether I had dreams about him."

"Dreams?"

"He asked if Dad ever called in my dreams. I thought he meant because I missed him."

Brooks wrote something down.

Noah watched her pen.

Victor had also asked about the little phone. Rachel had said Ethan gave it to Noah because he worked strange hours. Victor had picked it up, turned it over, and asked whether it still worked.

Noah told Brooks that too.

"He knew about the store," Noah said. "He drove me here after Dad died. He said Dad used to like the bakery cookies."

"Did you tell him about the gray door?"

Noah's stomach dropped.

"I think so."

"That doesn't make this your fault."

He stared at the watch-shaped mark on his wrist, where Victor's expensive present had sat too loose.

Ethan came back with a red mark on his cheek and Rachel behind him.

She sat on Noah's other side. Neither adult spoke for a while.

Then his phone rang.

UNCLE VICTOR.

Noah's whole body tightened.

Brooks held out one hand, palm down. Wait.

The ringing continued.

Ethan looked at the screen. His expression made Noah want to hide the phone.

"You don't have to answer," Brooks said.

Noah pressed the green circle before he could think further.

"Hello?"

"There you are, champ."

The voice was warm. Almost cheerful.

Noah looked at Rachel's slippers.

"I heard about the trouble at Haven. Your aunt wasn't picking up. Are you all right?"

"Yes."

"You sound tired. Where are you?"

Noah said nothing.

"Still at the store?"

He could remember Victor lifting him onto his shoulders at a fair. Buying him hot chocolate. Kneeling beside him at his mother's grave, touching the carved letters with one finger.

All those memories belonged to the same man speaking now.

"Noah? Is somebody with you?"

His father's hand rested on the desk, open.

Noah wanted to ask why. He wanted Victor to hear him say he knew. The words pushed against his teeth.

He put the phone in his father's hand.

Ethan lifted it.

"I'm here, Victor."

For several seconds, the line was silent.

Then Victor said, "You shouldn't have sent that picture."

Ethan's jaw tightened.

"Where is Claire?"

The call ended.

Noah stared at the phone.

Rachel slid her arm around his shoulders.

"You did fine."

"I didn't do anything."

"You handed it over."

Outside, an ambulance door slammed. Noah flinched. Rachel's arm tightened without comment.

They moved him to a field office before midnight. There was a couch, a vending machine, and a room with a little television that wouldn't get a signal. Rachel found crackers in her bag and made him eat three.

Ethan stayed long enough to explain that people were looking for Victor. He told Noah Brooks would be with the team, and that he himself would stay in the building.

"Which room?"

"Across the hall. Door with the blue sticker."

Noah went and checked.

Later, Brooks came back smelling of cold air. Ethan met her in the doorway. They spoke quietly until Noah sat up.

"Tell me."

Ethan looked at Brooks, then pulled a chair over.

They had found Victor at a distribution warehouse south of town. An employee who had seen him arrive had called after officers asked the company to locate his vehicle. He was in custody. He had tried to burn folders in a metal waste bin.

"Was Mom there?"

"No."

"Did he say where she is?"

"Not yet."

Noah looked down at the blanket Rachel had spread over him.

Ethan placed a clear protective sleeve on the table. Inside it was a folded envelope, its edges worn soft.

NOAH.

His name in handwriting he recognized from birthday cards saved in a shoebox.

"They found this in his briefcase," Ethan said. "It was inside a larger envelope. Addressed to him, with instructions to give it to you."

"When?"

"Almost four years ago."

Noah thought of four birthdays. Of Victor asking him to blow out candles. Of the console and the jacket and the watch.

He took the envelope with both hands.

The paper inside was thin, folded twice.

My Noah,

Your uncle will tell you I chose to leave you.

Noah stopped reading.

For the first time that night, he began to cry without trying to hide it.