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conditioner greeted her inside. She checked in Sierra’s room.
    It was empty. Again. She went back outside to ask Ricky where this man’s house was, but he was nowhere in sight. She started to ask one of the boys where he’d gone but then saw Ricky’s truck pulling out of the complex.
    She paced and waited, waited and paced. Sierra didn’t come home. April’s skin crawled at the thought of Sierra in a strange man’s house. Surely it was all a mistake.
    She was about to pick up the phone to page Ricky when the front door opened.
    Her daughter had color in her cheeks and a glint in her eyes. April held on to the back of the couch, taking in her little girl’s appearance. With Sierra’s dark eyes and ivory skin, she was stunning, at least when she didn’t hide behind that veil of hair.
    “Been for a walk?” April tried to say it without accusation.
    The light faded from Sierra’s face. “Mom,” she started, but didn’t say anything else.
    “And a visit?” April asked quietly.
    Sierra cringed but didn’t deny it.
    April smoothed Sierra’s hair behind her ear. “A stranger’s house, baby?”
    Sierra’s eyes glazed, and she found a spot on the sofa to stare at.
    Ricky was right. Her daughter had gone into a stranger’s house. April would like to believe the man wasn’t dangerous. But he’d done nothing to earn her trust. Nor his neighbors’, apparently.
    April’s mouth went dry at the thought of what might have happened. “Don’t go to his house again. I love you too much. Okay?”
    Sierra shook her head, backing away. “He’s not like that.”
    “Maybe not.” Despite herself, her voice rose a notch. “But we have no way of knowing. He’s a stranger. Promise me, Sierra.”
    Sierra looked at her in disbelief. “Mom!”
    When April didn’t give in, Sierra stormed to her room. April sank onto the couch, resting her face in her hands. The distance between them was growing into a yawning gap. Letting Wes foot the bill was starting to sound like a life buoy. Even if it did mean putting herself and Sierra under Hill’s iron will.
     
    Sunday afternoon, April looked out her bedroom window. Sierra casually walked down the stairs. April made it outside before Sierra could take another step.
    “Where are you off to, sweetheart?” She said it with all the nonchalance she could muster.
    Sierra turned a pinched face up to her. “I have to see him, Mom.”
    “Why?” April walked down the steps to meet her, searching for her best listening voice. “What is it about this man?”
    Sierra shook her head, her hands outstretched in front of her. “I just do.”
    “I need more, Sierra. I don’t know him.”
    “He’s real, Mom. And deep.”
    April looked off at the drooping branches of the willow tree. “He sounds intriguing. Maybe we can arrange a meeting. But you can’t go into his house alone. I will not allow it!” A shiver ran down her back. She sounded like her own mother.
    Sierra drew back as if she’d been slapped, but in an instant, her face cleared of all emotion. She stood so placid, so regal, she might have been Queen Nefertiti. Sierra turned back up the steps, closing the apartment door behind her with far more gentleness than required.
    Just like that, she was gone before the conversation had even started. There was no mother-daughter talk. Not even a teenage storm.
    Things were stiff and stilted between them the rest of the day, and when she went to bed that night, April slept restlessly in thirty-minute snatches, her mind whirling the whole time. Her alarm clock seemed to mock her—12:37 a.m., 1:05 a.m., 1:24 a.m. Finally, she fell into a sleep of wild dreams.
    When she woke, it was to the echo of a scream. She sat up, burying her face in the tangled sheets. She looked around for a few seconds, afraid the scream had been real. But it was only him. His scream, threading around her and choking her.
    Slowing her breathing, she looked around, through the dark, hoping she hadn’t cried