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back she had kicked him in the balls.
    Faint from the sudden shock of pain, the white-hot agony of an older wound, he still managed to keep her from escaping.
    She was wearing Alicia’s cloths, her locket.   They couldn’t let her get away; they had to find out how she got them.   It was too weird, the possibilities mind boggling, but here she was.
    They managed to calm her down by promising food and television.
    She watched Jared, and when he’d come close enough she let him know by cocking back her nearly empty bowl like a Frisbee, threatening to let loose if he came any closer.   Milk and soggy kernels of cereal spilled over the side of the bowl and onto her arm, but she didn’t care.
    Slowly, Jared set the soda can on the arm of the couch and backed away.
    The girl set the bowl on the coffee table and drank the soda enthusiastically.
    Jared returned to his place at the kitchen table.
    â€œWe have to take her to the police,” Jared whispered.   “We can’t hold her like this, it’s illegal as hell, and likely to get us both prison time.”
    â€œI have to find out where she got Alicia’s stuff.   Maybe after that.   I have to know.”   Shannon didn’t realize she’d been raising her voice until the girl looked over sharply at them, and she made herself calm down.   “She might know who killed Thomas.   She might know about Alicia.”
    â€œI know,” Jared said.   He sighed, a resigned sound, and said, “We better try then.”
    The girl watched them.   She lurched to her feet as they neared the couch, but didn't run.   Jared moved quickly around the back of the couch, to the side nearest the drawn shades of his window, and they flanked her.
    â€œWhere did you get that?” Shannon asked, her voice barely controlled, and pointed to the locket.
    The girl watched her closely, but said nothing.
    â€œIt’s my daughter’s.   Her name is Alicia Pitcher, and I gave it to her for her birthday two years ago.”   Her voice was steady, but it was an edge she worked hard to control.   She felt like throttling the silent girl.
    â€œIt’s mine,” the girl said, and clutched a fist around it.
    â€œNo,” Shannon said.   “It’s not.   Have you ever looked inside?   At the picture?”
    The girl nodded.
    â€œOpen it up again, look at the picture,” she said.   “Please.”
    The girl did, and the recognition was instant.   “It’s you,” she said.
    â€œYes,” Shannon said patiently.   “Me, my ex-husband, and my daughter.   Thomas is dead.   He was murdered, and my girl is gone.”   She swallowed, her mouth suddenly gone dry. It was difficult to go on, but she had to ask.   “Do you know where Alicia is?”
    The girl looked up from the locket to Shannon’s face. The fear and distrust was gone, replaced by a look of sympathy that Shannon didn’t like.   “ He got her,” she said.   “And he’ll get me too.   I have to go,” she said urgently.   “I have to go back or he’ll get me again.”
    â€œWho?” Shannon asked, and when the girl shook her head she asked again, a demand this time.
    â€œYou won’t believe me,” she said. “Please let me go.”
    â€œGo where?” Jared asked.   “To the river?”   He spoke slowly, as if to an idiot. “He won’t find you here.   He doesn’t know where you are.”
    â€œI think she wants to go back to the park,” Shannon said.
    The girl nodded, shuffled her feet.   The park or the moon, she clearly wanted to be gone, but knew she couldn’t get past them.
    â€œPark by the river,” Jared said in a breathless voice.   “Tell me you don’t mean Blackstone.”
    â€œFeral Park,” the girl said defiantly.   “It’s called Feral