Night Film

43

I closed the Vanity Fair article on my BlackBerry. It was after ten A.M., and we were in a taxi speeding down Avenue A.

I was actually reassured by the piece — published on the website early this morning. The reporter hadn’t made much headway in her investigation, thank Christ, and a Google search of news for Ashley Cordova revealed no other reporter had uncovered the critical lead, that Ashley had been admitted to Briarwood — which meant we were still ahead of the game. At least for now.

I made quick note of one odd detail: Ashley’s unexpected leave from Amherst during her freshman year.

“There it is,” Nora said suddenly, and the driver pulled over.

We’d turned down East Ninth Street, and Nora was indicating a narrow storefront sunken some five feet down from the sidewalk, a black front gate and a beat-up red metal awning, a single word painted across it in purple letters: