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altered the lives of everyone Erin loved. The monster who’d stolen Claire’s innocence and shattered their family was still pulling invisible strings, shaping the people they had all become and how they lived their lives.
    Erin hated it, despised that she had no control, that she was still no less a victim than she’d been at twelve years old. That was the true source of her anger, the underpinnings of what kept her ready to lash out at any moment. And she didn’t know what to do about it.
    Finally, just as the eastern horizon had hinted at the approaching day, she’d drifted off, sleeping fitfully until Janie bounded in at eight thirty. The seven-year-old brought morning sunshine and pure energy as she bounced on Erin’s bed to wake her sleepyhead of an aunt. A half hour later, Erin had headed for the park.
    Now, as she came to the end of her run and the path leading back to the entrance, she considered going an extra mile or two. She was still edgy and in need of physical exertion.
    Then she remembered Janie and their plans for the day. By the time Erin got back to the house, her niece would be at the breakfast table, too excited to eat. Like Friday night pizza, spending Saturday together had become a routine as they explored the sites around the D.C. area.
    They’d done the normal tourist stuff: walking the mall, visiting monuments, and touring museums. Janie particularly loved the National Gallery of Art and had begged Erin to take her back three times already. The child’s artist eye took in everything and later transferred it to her own drawing pad. But they’d found things of particular interest for kids as well, and today they were headed for the National Zoo. Janie had been talking about it all week. She wanted to see the pandas.
    So instead of going an extra mile or two, Erin slowed to a fast walk and headed for a nearby bench. Spending time with Janie would be worth forgoing the extra running.
    As she stretched out her heated muscles, she looked around.
    A playground dominated this area of the park. In the center sat a brightly colored labyrinth of slides and tunnels, ladders, and climbing or hanging bars. Flanking it were a pair of swing sets, a slow saddle type for babies and toddlers on one side and a flat-seated highflier for the bigger kids on the other. Plastic animals on heavy-duty springs, seesaws, run and push merry-go-rounds, and a wooden sandbox filled in the spaces.
    The park was quickly filling with people, mothers pushing carriages or children on swings. Fathers, too. Families. Erin wished Janie could experience a normal family, but that wasn’t likely. Her father’s identity was lost somewhere in Claire’s damaged mind, if she’d ever known it to begin with, and Claire . . . well, she’d hardly qualify as your standard PTA mom.
    Erin dropped down onto the bench, resting her head against the back and closing her eyes. The sun felt good on her skin, warm and nourishing. It was a beautiful day, perfect for an outdoor excursion, and she wasn’t going to waste it worrying about things she couldn’t change.
    Fall had temporarily retreated, giving summer her way with the sunshine and temperature. Overhead, the cloudless blue sky was so sharp it almost hurt her eyes. The trees still shimmered in their greenery, and the last of the summer flowers reached toward the sun: lilies, impatiens, and cyclamen.
    Erin, who’d never cared much for growing things, mentally checked off the names she’d once learned as part of an undercover operation, where she’d posed as a florist. She didn’t understand the mystique of tending plants, but she did gain an appreciation for their beauty and a satisfaction in knowing their names.
    A high-tinkling bell sparkled the air.
    Erin sat up. An ice-cream vendor pushed a cart along the walk toward the playground. Excitement rippled through the surrounding children, who pleaded with parents for money, then raced toward the man and his cart, small fists tight around