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photograph once more and again felt chills when she got to the last one. But all she could see were those last three letters—r-u-p.
    She turned to her computer and was about to begin an Internet search when she saw the time—5:42. Outside her window the sun had already set.
    “Damn!”
    She quickly shut down her computer, stuffed the documents into her briefcase, grabbed her keys, and dashed down the hallway past the busy production department and out the side door. If she didn’t hurry, she’d be late picking up Connor again. Worse than the money the YWCA would charge her would be the sad look in her son’s eyes. He hated to be the last to go home.
    She rushed to her car, opened the door, tossed in her purse and briefcase, and slid behind the steering wheel. It was only a few blocks to Connor’s day care, but downtown Denver was a tangle of one-way streets that were inevitably choked with traffic during rush hour.
    It was 5:58 when she pulled into the YWCA parking lot. Two other cars were parked there, and one of them belonged to Connor’s teacher.
    Kara scrambled out of the car and up the walkway just as a father stepped out with his little girl. As she reached for the door handle, she spotted Connor staring dejectedly out of the window at her—last again. She felt the familiar twist of regret in her stomach.
    She stepped inside the foyer and unfastened the child-proof wooden gate. “Hey, pumpkin!”
    Connor gazed up at her from his perch by the window, a look of resignation in his brown eyes. He shuffled over to his cubby and pulled his blue down coat from its hook.
    “He’s had a good day.” Janice, Connor’s teacher, wiped down a shin-high table. “You ate all your lunch and helped me keep an eye on the little kids, didn’t you?”
    Connor nodded and stuck an arm in a sleeve.

    “I’m happy to hear that. Thanks, Janice.” Kara helped Connor the rest of the way into his coat, knelt down, and zipped it. She kissed him on his tiny nose. “I’m so happy to see you!”
    He reached for his lunch box, while Kara took the papers and drawings from the top shelf of his cubby and looked through them. “What a nice butterfly! I love its pretty blue wings.”
    “There’s a permission slip there I need you to sign. The Friday after next, we’re taking the four- and five-year-olds on a field trip to the museum to see the dinosaurs.”
    “That sounds like fun, doesn’t it, Connor? You love dinosaurs.”
    Connor looked up at her, his little mouth curving into a smile.
    Janice lifted tiny chairs onto the newly cleaned tables. “We need parents to help chaperone, and as you work so close by, I was hoping you could be one of them.”
    “Well, I . . .” Kara glanced at the permission slip. She would love to come along, to spend a part of her day with her son and other children, but Tom would never give her time off for that. “I don’t know. I save all my personal time to use when Connor is sick.”
    Janice gave Kara a look that said she heard excuses like this from all the parents and had little respect for them. “Well, see what you can work out. We can’t take the trip without chaperones, and so far only one parent has signed on.”
    Kara took a breath and fought back a sense of overwhelm. “I’ll let you know. Are you ready, pumpkin?”
    The look on Connor’s face said he’d been ready an hour ago.
    K ARA RINSED the shampoo from Connor’s hair with a pitcher full of bathwater, then grabbed a towel and wiped water from his eyes. “There you go—no more sea slugs or slimy snails in your hair.”

    This was her favorite time of day. Dinner was over, the dishes were done, and she had uninterrupted time to spend with her son.
    She’d made spaghetti—his favorite—then listened as he’d told her about the tower he’d built with blocks and how it had been the tallest tower ever. Her heart had ached to think she hadn’t been there to see it.
    The tallest tower ever.
    “Draw me a picture!”