When she opened her eyes, Lily was watching her.

“What did you wish?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Was it a puppy?”

“Then you wished wrong.”

At 7:20, they left for preschool.

The air smelled clean after the rain.

Emma held Lily’s hand as they walked toward the bus stop.

Halfway down the block, Lily slowed.

“That man is here again.”

Emma stopped.

“What man?”

Lily pointed across the street.

A gray sedan was parked near a fire hydrant.

A man sat behind the wheel.

Emma could not see his face clearly.

“Again?” she asked.

“He was by school yesterday.”

Every protective instinct in her body came awake.

“Are you sure?”

“He has the red sticker.”

A parking permit with a red border was visible in the windshield.

The driver turned his head toward them.

Emma took out her phone.

The car pulled away before she could photograph the license plate.

She crouched beside Lily.

“Did he talk to you?”

“Did he get out of the car?”

“Did you see him any other time?”

Lily thought carefully.

“Outside Mrs. Chen’s when she bought oranges.”

Emma’s pulse quickened.

“When was that?”

“Tuesday.”

Three days ago.

Before the restaurant.

Before Alexander Castillo.

She walked Lily directly to preschool and spoke with the director.

No one had reported a suspicious vehicle.

The security cameras might have captured it, but the office administrator would need time to review the footage.

Emma wanted to stay.

Instead, she kissed Lily twice, reminded the teachers that no one except Emma and Mrs. Chen could pick her up, and went to work.

At St. Mary’s, she spent the morning trying to focus.

She checked medication charts.

Changed dressings.

Helped an elderly patient call his daughter.

But every time her phone vibrated, she imagined the gray sedan.

At noon, the hospital receptionist called her station.

“Emma, there is a gentleman here asking for you.”

Her stomach dropped.

“He says his name is Mateo Ruiz.”

Emma found him in the lobby holding a small white box.

He looked out of place beneath the bright hospital lights, though less dangerous than he had at The Obsidian.

“What are you doing here?”

“Delivering this.”

He offered the box.

Emma did not take it.

“What is it?”

“Your birthday dessert.”

“I don’t need dessert.”

“Mr. Castillo suspected you might say that.”

“Then why send it?”

“Because he was told your daughter believes pancakes qualify as cake.”

Emma’s fear sharpened.

“How does he know about my daughter?”

Mateo’s expression changed.

“He does not. Not in the way you are thinking.”

You just mentioned her.

“You told the server last night that you had a four-year-old when he asked whether you wanted the dessert boxed.”

Emma remembered.

The server had offered chocolate mousse.

She had joked that Lily would never forgive her for eating dessert without her.

Still, the knowledge felt too personal in Mateo’s mouth.

“Tell Mr. Castillo not to send anything else.”