Trey started thinking about what he was supposed to say to Mr. Talbot He hadn’t worried about that before. Words were so much easier than action.

“I’m so glad you’re home, Mr. Talbot,” They began. “You won’t believe what happened. We just—”

But Mr. Talbot cut him off

“No, no, I do not want to buy anything to support your school’s lacrosse team,” he said. “And please do not come back. Tell the rest of your team that this is a no-soliciting house. Can’t you see I’m a busy man?”

Mr. Talbot’s eyebrows beetled together, like forbidding punctuation.

“But, Mr. Talbot — I’m not — I’m—”

Too late. The door slammed in his face.

“—Trey,” They finished in a whisper, talking now to the door.

He doesn’t remember me, Trey thought. It wasn’t that surprising. Every time Mr. Talbot had visited Hendricks School, where Trey and Lee were students, Trey had been in the background, no more noticeable than the wallpaper.

Lee, on the other hand, had been front and center, talking to Mr. Talbot, joking with him, going off for special meals with him.

Mr. Talbot wouldn’t have slammed the door in Lee’s face, They thought Was Trey jealous of that, too? No. I just wish Lee were here to talk with Mr. Talbot now.

They sighed, and began gathering the nerve to ring the doorbell again.

But then two things happened, one after the other. First, a car shot out from under the house — from a hidden garage, Trey guessed. It was black and long and official-looking. Its tires screeched, winding around the curves of the driveway. They caught a glimpse of two men in uniforms in the front seat, and Mr. Talbot in the back Mr. Talbot held up his hands toward the window, toward Trey, and Trey saw a glint of something metal around his wrists.

Handcuffs?

The black car bounced over the curb and then sped off down the street.