Your name echoes in the narrow hallway. But instead of you, I see a lanky boy with a tweed cap and a green coat scurrying toward the mouth of the stairs. He turns, wide-eyed, and goes still. His face is familiar. Your sister’s boy. The quiet one you call Dickey. His mouth opens, but nothing comes out. “Where’s your aunt?” I say as calmly as I can manage. “Is she with you?” He closes his mouth, shakes his head. “You’re here alone?” He nods, still silent. I keep one eye on him as I bend down to retrieve the envelope from the floor. “How did you get here?” “On my bike. I have to go now. I’m not
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so dickey was literally involved!
