Nobody was watching Noah that afternoon.
This was not unusual. Victoria had staff, but nobody had been specifically assigned to keep an eye on a seven-year-old who had lived in this house his entire life and had long since learned where everything was.
Noah was good at not needing watching. He had learned it early.
He needed his school enrollment paperwork. The new school had sent a reminder that morning: three forms, due by the end of the week, requiring a parent signature and proof of address. Victoria would normally have handled this. Victoria was not here. He had looked in the obvious places: the kitchen drawer where she kept things that needed doing, the filing tray on the hall table, the shelf in the study where she kept current paperwork.
Nothing.
He stood in the doorway of her
