5712. I don’t remember dropping the Bible, just the slap-thud as it hit the wooden floor. 5712 Orchard Road. Like a bomb had gone off. The place I’d lived for so long. The family farm. I looked over at the eyeless salamander on the kitchen counter, as if it could help me. 17 52. The only explanation I could think of: when Hillman had found the salamander and pried out its eyes, he’d found the address of the place I’d left behind so long ago. He’d known it was important. He just didn’t know what it meant. Didn’t know it was about my past. But knew enough to hide it. For Ronnie’s sake?
