As if reading the mind of the “guilty” person, Fred continued, “As you know, our daughter Sarah died of leukemia in December of 1980, just before Christmas. That hurt has never gone away. It’s worse than losing Bumps last year.” Losing 12-year-old Sarah had thrown Fred and his wife into long bouts with depression. But, he continued, “A couple of years before her death, Sarah and Bumps found a large, old-fashioned door knob at a flea market and Bumps bought it for Sarah. It took me almost a week to get it installed on her bedroom door.” The memory of this brought a faint smile to Fred’s lips, “Now, I know there are two keys to the lock and I only have one. One of you has the other.”

“What makes you think so, and why is it important?” asked Bill.

“Because one of you was Sarah’s secret friend. She gave you the key.