She hoped so. She had not known what to expect, but this? His right eye was swollen shut. There was a cut like something from a straight razor across one cheek while a bruise welled up on the other one. His lip was split. One arm was under the blanket, but she could see two huge bruises on the other forearm.

“What did they do to him?” she whispered.

“They’re dead men,” Mo said. “You hear me? I’m going to track them down and I’m not going to beat them. I’m going to kill them.”

Tia put her hand on her husband’s forearm. Her husband. Her beautiful, handsome, strong husband. She had fallen in love with this man at Dartmouth. She had shared her bed with him, had children, chosen him to be her companion for life. It was not something that you think about often, but there it was. You actually choose one fellow human being to share a life with-it was the most frightening thing when you think about it. How had she let them drift apart, even a little? How had she let the routine become routine and not done everything every second of their life together to make it even better, even more passionate?

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

His eyes blinked open. She could see fear in his eyes too-and maybe that was the worst thing of all. In all the time she had known Mike, she had never seen fear in him. She had never seen him cry either. He did, she guessed, but he was the sort that did not show it. He wanted to be the strong shoulder, and old-fashioned as it might sound, she wanted that too.

He looked straight up in the air, eyes wide now, as if seeing some imaginary attacker.

“Mike,” Tia said. “I’m right here.”

His eyes moved toward hers, met hers, but the fear did not let go. If seeing her was a comfort, he wasn’t showing that either. Tia took his hand.

“You’re going to be fine,” she said.

His eyes stayed on hers and now she could see it. She knew what he’d say even before the words came out of his mouth.

“What about Adam? Where is he?”

DOLLY Lewiston saw the car drive past her house again.

It slowed. Like the last time. And the time before.

“It’s him again,” she said.

Her husband, a fifth-grade teacher named Joe Lewiston, did not look up. He was correcting papers with a little too much focus.

“Joe?”

“I heard you, Dolly,” he snapped. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“He has no right.” She watched him drive off, the car seeming to dissolve in the distance. “Maybe we should call the police.”

“And say what?”

“That he’s stalking us.”

“He drives down our road. It’s not against the law.”

“He slows down.”

“That’s not against the law either.”

“You can tell them what happened.”

He made a snorting noise, kept his eye on his papers. “I’m sure the police will be very sympathetic.”

“We have a child too.”

She had, in fact, been watching little Allie, their three-year-old, on the computer. The K-Little Gym Web site lets you watch your child via a webcam in the room-snack time, building blocks, reading, independent work, singing, whatever-so you could always check in on them. This was why Dolly chose K-Little.

Both she and Joe worked as elementary schoolteachers. Joe worked at Hillside school teaching fifth grade. She taught second graders in Paramus. Dolly Lewiston wanted to quit her job, but they needed both salaries. Her husband still loved teaching, but somewhere along the way the love had faded away for Dolly. Some might note that she’d lost her passion for teaching right around the same time Allie was born, but she thought it was more than that. Still, she did her job and fended off complaining parents, but all she really wanted to do was watch the K-Little Web site and make sure her baby was safe.

Guy Novak, the man in the car who drove by their house, had not been able to watch his daughter or make sure she was safe. So on one level, Dolly totally got where he was coming from and even sympathized with his frustration. But that didn’t mean she was about to let him hurt her family. The world was often simply a case of us or them, and she’d be damned if it would be her family.

She turned to look at Joe. His eyes were closed, his head down.

She came up behind him and put her hand on his shoulders. He winced at her touch. The wince lasted a second, no more, but she felt it ripple through her whole body. He had been so tense the last few weeks. She kept her hands there, didn’t pull them away, and he relaxed. She started rubbing his shoulders. He used to love that. It took a few minutes but his shoulders started to soften.

“It’s okay,” she said.

“I just lost my cool.”

“I know.”

“I went out to the edge, like I always do, and then…”

“I know.”

She did. It was what made Joe Lewiston a good teacher. He had passion. He kept his students listening, told them jokes, sometimes crossed the line into inappropriateness but the kids loved that about him. It made them pay attention and learn more. Parents had gotten mildly upset by Joe’s antics before, but he had enough defenders to protect himself. The large majority of parents fought for their kid to get Mr. Lewiston. They liked the fact that their children enjoyed school and had a teacher who showed genuine enthusiasm and didn’t just go through the motions. Unlike Dolly.

“I really hurt that girl,” he said.

“You didn’t mean to. All the kids and parents still love you.”

He said nothing.

“She’ll get over it. This is all going to pass, Joe. It’ll be fine.”

His lower lip started quaking. He was falling apart. Much as she loved him, much as she knew that he was a far better teacher and person than she would ever be, Dolly also knew that her husband was not the strongest man. People thought he was. He came from a big family, growing up the youngest of six siblings, but his father had been too domineering. He’d belittled his youngest, gentlest son, and in turn, Joe found an escape in being funny and entertaining. Joe Lewiston was the finest man she had ever known, but he was also weak.

That was okay with her. It was Dolly’s job to be the strong one. It fell to her to hold her husband and her family together.

“I’m sorry I snapped,” Joe said.

“That’s okay.”

“You’re right. This will pass.”

“Exactly.” She kissed his neck and then the spot behind the earlobe. His favorite. She used her tongue and gently swirled. She waited for the small moan. It never came. Dolly whispered, “Maybe you should stop correcting papers for a little while, hmm?”

He pulled away, just a little. “I, uh, really need to finish these.”

Dolly stood and took a step back. Joe Lewiston saw what he’d done, tried to recover.

“Can I take a rain check?” he asked.

That was what sheused to say when not in the mood. That was, in fact, the “wife” line in general, wasn’t it? He had always been the aggressor that way-no weakness there-but the last few months, since the slip of the tongue, pardon the wording, he had been different even in that.

“Sure,” she said.

Dolly turned away.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“I’ll be back,” Dolly said. “I just need to run to the store and then I’ll pick up Allie. You finish correcting your papers.”

Dolly Lewiston dashed upstairs, logged online, looked up Guy Novak’s address, got directions. She also checked her school e-mail address-there was always a complaining parent-but it hadn’t been working for the past two days. Still nothing.

“My e-mail is still on the fritz,” she called down.

“I’ll check on it,” he said.

Dolly printed out the directions to Guy Novak’s house, folded the paper into quarters, and jammed it into her pocket. On the way out, she kissed her husband on the top of his head. He told her that he loved her. She told him that she loved him too.