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Zan and Kevin raced to the Central Park Precinct to find Alvirah and Willy already there. Billy Collins, Jennifer Dean, and Wally Johnson were waiting for them. Billy had told Zan on the phone that the Middletown Police assured him that while Matthew was very pale and thin, he looked okay. He’d explained to her that while ordinarily the police would want to have Matthew checked out by a doctor right away, that could be done later today or tomorrow. Billy had told them to get him home.

“Zan,” he cautioned her, “from what they know so far, Matthew has never forgotten you. Penny Hammel, the woman we can thank for finding him, showed the police a drawing that they think Matthew made. She found it in the backyard of that farmhouse. I hear it looks a lot like you and it has the word ‘Mommy’ printed on the bottom. But it would be a good idea if you brought a toy or a pillow or something that he loved. It might comfort him after what he’s been through.”

From the moment she entered the precinct, other than fiercely thanking and hugging Alvirah and Willy, Zan had not said another word. Kevin Wilson, his arm protectively around her, was carrying a large shopping bag. When they heard the sound of sirens approaching the entrance to the precinct, Zan reached into the bag and pulled out a blue bathrobe. “He’ll remember this,” she said. “He loved to cuddle with me inside of it.”

Billy Collins’s phone rang. He listened and smiled. “Come into this private room,” he said gently to Zan. “They’re bringing him in downstairs now. I’ll go get him.”

Less than a minute later, the door opened and little Matthew Carpenter stood bewildered and looked around. Zan, with the robe draped over her arm, ran to him and dropped to her knees. Trembling, she folded him into the robe.

Tentatively, Matthew reached for the lock of hair that was falling over her face and held it against his cheek. “Mommy,” he whispered, “Mommy, I missed you.”