They often played, sometimes in our attic where Brian’s electric train was set up.I absorbed two things from the teacher meeting. My child was still...alive and he was doing well in school. I checked them off my list.Time sped by.Sadly, the hoped-for end of school bullying did not come but Brian seemed almost oblivious to it. He came home with his share of scrapes and bruises but nothing we could pin on a single bully. I cornered Betts in the spring when she was in sixth grade and Brian was in. "I asked as we crossed the hot, teeming street, "The people at Columbia sent you here?" No. Worse than that. I volunteered. Come on, they're waiting in this little diner. Watch out for the coffee, it'll keep you awake for a week."In the diner Martha smiled tiredly and greeted two men who sat at a four-seat table near the foggy front window. One of them was a tall, virile looking man in his thirties. The other was a slight, younger man in black-rimmed glasses and a wrinkled gray suit. The taller. More

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