on the porch, watching the driveway. The girls sat on the steps below her.
“I don’t want to go,” Ruthie whispered, her voice barely audible.
“We have to,” Deena said, her little jaw set. “It’s not finished.”
Just then, Sheriff Brody’s car pulled up. Ms. Albright was in the passenger seat. But Frank got out alone. He walked up the porch steps slowly.
“Frank
