Carson saw them and waved them over.
“Setting up for tonight’s event,” he said as they approached. “To dedicate the Sabrina Abbott Children’s Reading Room. Let me show it to you, since we’re here,” Carson said.
He marched them toward the library next to the green—a classical building painted a prim white, with two columns supporting the front portico. The library was small and a bit out-of-date, but there were several people inside, and the displays looked well-curated. Carson walked straight through the building to the more modern structure at the back. Only one person was inside—a woman in a blue wrap dress, sorting and arranging a long shelf of picture books.
This could only be Allison Abbott. The resemblance to Sabrina was unmistakable—she had the same big brown eyes, the same determined look. She looked to be in her midfifties, with short, dark hair, graying only at the temples. She looked at the coffees and muffins in Stevie’s, Janelle’s, and Nate’s hands and opened her mouth to speak.
“Sorry,” Stevie said.
“Oh, that’s okay, it’s fine,” Carson cut in. “You can drink in here.”
Allison bit her lower lip but said nothing.
“This is Stevie Bell—from Ellingham Academy,” Carson said, in what Stevie realized was going to be the standard way she would be introduced around the town. Janelle and Nate were not introduced.
The walls were painted a happy sky blue. There were
lights suspended from the ceiling in the shape of fluffy clouds, and Carson proudly demonstrated the various effects he could achieve with them—bright light, pink clouds, a rainy day effect. There were readying stations with beanbags （this man loved a beanbag maybe more than anyone had ever loved anything）， a fake indoor tree with a small treehouse, long, low tables for games, and racks and racks of books.
“It’s a beautiful room,” Allison said. “The kids are going to love it. We already have loads of events scheduled—story times, board game afternoons, writing classes.”
Carson nodded absently and continued fiddling with the controls for the cloud ceiling fixtures.
“My sister,” Allison said, turning to Stevie, Janelle, and Nate, “she worked here, in the library. She passed away.”
“We were going to put in a mural of Sabrina,” Carson added. “But—”
“It would be difficult,” Allison cut in. “I think the room is the perfect tribute to her, especially this.”
She indicated a giant turtle in the corner that contained bench seats and a little table, perfect for children to sit in.
“She loved turtles,” Allison said. “She would have loved that—kids reading in a big turtle.”
“Looks like we’re all good for tonight’s event?” Carson said. “Lots of people coming?”
“I think it’s going to be well attended.”
“Good! Good.” He nodded. “Well, have to get over to the camp. See you tonight at the picnic!”
Stevie took every step carefully, not wanting to spill a
drop of coffee on the floor.
“So that,” Carson said as the group got back into the Tesla, “is Barlow Corners. Allison is one of the most vocal family survivors. She really keeps the case alive—stays in touch with the police, that kind of thing.”
“That’s really nice what you did,” Janelle said. “Building a reading room like that for her sister’s memory.”
“Yeah,” Carson said, pulling out onto the road. “It helps me get the town on my side, for the show. I spent a few hundred thousand—but if I play it right, the show may be worth in the millions.”