Over the next several hours, Sam came to realize the whole episode was much worse than he ever could have imagined. So substantial was the alarm raised over Lydia's actions that the Chicago police had closed many of the roads leading into the Loop. Consequently, there were numerous false starts, and after a series of phone calls, Sam and Christy finally decided to meet at the house.

The old man was torn. Part of him wanted to race to Christy and Celia to ensure their safety. The other part, perhaps the larger part, ached to turn over every imaginable stone to find Lydia. He sensed a frantic edge growing in him he'd never felt before.

But Tommy was there. His friend of nearly half a century had assured him, promised him in fact, that he would bring Lydia home by the morning. Tommy's Gifts were extraordinary, and he'd never let Sam down. Even more, his friend's self-assurance and relative calm reassured Sam, even if just slightly.

So, after dropping off his passenger as close to the Loop as possible, Sam made the short drive to their home in Bronzeville. Christy Sue met him at the door. The young woman had been through much and was not easily rattled, so Sam saw a Christy not frightened but, if anything, annoyed at the situation.

Unfortunately, there was little she could add to what she'd told him over the phone. She and the girls had just arrived on the L platform at Lake Street when Christy heard Lydia's raised voice followed by Celia's angry screams.

"The next thing I knew, Lydia had her hands on some guy I'd never seen before. He was big and managed to pull away from her. I think she ripped his shirt off. After that, she caught up to him again in the crowd and ... shit, either knocked him or threw him off the stairs to the platform. He landed on the street but somehow got up and got in a car. The last I saw Lydia she was on foot tearing after the guy south on State. I damn near had to tackle Celia to keep her from following."

Sam thought for a moment then asked, "Before that all happened, what were the girls yelling?"

"I couldn't make out what Lydia said, but Celia was screaming and yelling, 'motherfucker,' 'piece of shit,' ... you know, her usual. But I never heard her so angry." Christy hesitated again. "I didn't think of it at the time ... it all happened so fast. But I think maybe they recognized him."

Sam rose to his feet, thinking. It was possible someone had touched one of the girls inappropriately on the crowded platform—such things happened—and the girls had reacted aggressively. But it seemed unlike them. The two had a way of feeding off one another, but they'd never completely spun out of control. Sam couldn't escape the notion that Christy was right and that either Lydia or Celia had recognized the man, likely from their time in captivity.

Sam felt the phone buzz in his pocket, not for the first time in the past few hours. He cursed himself for not having gotten Lydia and Celia mobile phones. The sudden thought that she might be calling struck him, and he hurriedly pulled the device from his pocket. It was a text from Philly.

"It's all over social media," was all text said.

"Shit," he said aloud, "that is another layer of Hell we do not need." He looked over to Christy. "Where's Celia?"

"She's in her room lying down. I don't think she's ready to talk yet. I had to wrestle her into the cab and couldn't get two words out of her on the ride home."

"Could you check on her?" Sam enquired gently. "I need to see how much of this is on the Internet." He saw a pained look on Christy's face before she departed toward the sleeping quarters."

It was bad. Sam saw a dozen or more low quality videos of Lydia posted over the last hour or so. Some showed her running at incredible speed down Chicago streets, bouncing back and forth against moving cars, others pictured her landing on the hood of a large SUV after a phenomenal leap, and others still were shots of her peeling back the vehicle's roof, pulling a man from the driver's seat, and hurling him across the road.

He noticed about halfway through that Christy was standing behind him with her hands on his shoulders. He reached up and patted her hand.

"Okay," she said, "this is bad."

"Yeah."

"Why don't you go talk to Celia. She's more herself."

Celia was propped on a pillow when he entered her room, looking, save for some redness in her eyes, her usual self. Sam suspected she'd been crying, something not typical of her. As tough as she was, she had a few tender spots, especially when it came to her sister.

His conversation with the young girl confirmed much of what he and Christy suspected. Lydia had spotted the man, at first uncertain he was the same man called Jake, from The Range, a facility where Celia had been held and from which private security contractors had hunted Lydia.

"I know I'm not supposed to look into people's heads anymore," she told Sam earnestly, "but the second I did, I knew it was him. He didn't recognize Lydia, but as soon as he saw me, he about shit himself. That's when he tried to run and Lydia went after him." The young girl's eyes began to water, more from anger than fear Sam suspected.

"She's going to be okay," Celia stated after swallowing her tears.

"Tommy will have her back in no time," replied Sam. "I promise. How are you feeling?"

"Okay," she whispered with little enthusiasm. "I'm sorry I gave Christy so much trouble."

"You can tell her that later. Why don't you try to get some sleep?" he said, kissing the child lightly on the forehead.

She nodded and wiggled off the pillow on which she'd been propped. "Could you leave the door open?"

The girls still opted to share a room, despite the copious space available to them, and Celia had not been alone since they'd moved to Chicago.

"Okay. Sleep tight."

He went into the living room to wait with Christy.

***

It hadn't taken Tommy long to catch Lydia's scent. But in the aftermath of events in the Loop, he opted to take his time. There were still numerous city, county, and state police officers in the area, and Tommy saw quite a few vehicles that he presumed from their appearance to be driven by federal agents. This was not good.

But he had no trouble following Lydia's path; to his keen nose, her smell was easy to discern. After circling the spot where she evidently had caught up with someone and, according to snatches of conversation he overheard, beaten the hell out of him, he realized that she'd headed southwest.

It wasn't clear how well the young woman knew the city, but he was confident that if she had headed southeast, it would've been because she was heading home. Either she didn't know where she was going, or she didn't want to lead anyone back to her home and family.

About three hours after Sam dropped him off, just past full dark, Tommy sensed Lydia's scent was slowly getting fresher. Fifteen minutes later, her trail abruptly turned into a large and overgrown lot that was fenced on three sides. Only a line of Jersey barriers separated the property from the road. At the place's center were several rundown buildings, the largest of which might have been an old foundry or machine shop.

Tommy knew she was close. The moment he made that realization, his Gift told him a single person was nearby, just beyond the largest building. Seconds after that, he could see Lydia in the tall grass behind the building. She was sitting up and looking around, as if she was alert to his presence.

"It's Tommy," he said just loud enough for the youngster to hear. She leapt to her feet, but as he closed the short distance between them, he noticed she held back slightly and had her hands placed awkwardly in front of her. She didn't say a word. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she responded quickly. "Is Sam with you? Or Christy?"

"No, it's just me. I've come to take you home." There was a moment more of silence, and he knew something was amiss. Then it dawned on him. "Those shorts weren't real good for running in, were they?"

He realized that running at such tremendous speeds she must have shredded the light summer shorts she'd been wearing that day, and perhaps her undergarments beneath. It was easy to forget Lydia was still very much a kid, and exposing herself in public would be intensely disconcerting.

He snatched off his long-sleeved work shirt and stretched it out. "Hey, wrap this around yourself."

She approached awkwardly, taking the shirt and pulling it swiftly around her waist. Tommy, who'd arrayed himself in every manner of exotic garb throughout the years, spent a few minutes talking her through how best to swathe and knot her new apparel. At the end, she still scarcely had spoken a word but seemed more at ease.

"Don't you feel a speck more dignified now?" he asked solemnly.

"I do ... this is embarrassing."

He could hear it in her voice. And there was no reason to speak of her earlier attack on the man. Sam would console and counsel the girl better than he could.

"It's okay," he reassured gently. "I've done that same thing more times than I can count." He waited for her to speak. When she hadn't spoken after a moment, he continued. "I'm lucky, though. I grew up in a time when being naked in public was normal."

There was a slight intake of air from her. "Celia says you're really, really old."

"I am. Sam wasn't too much older than you are right now when I first met him." He heard another surprised sound. "Did I do a good job raising him?"

This time she laughed. "Yeah. You did okay."

Tommy thought it safe to lay his arm gently across her shoulders. There were few things as comforting as a human touch. She responded by leaning her head against his shoulder and placing her hand lightly on his back. He could hear her heartbeat slow and feel her body relax.

"Are you ready to go home, now?"

"I am so ready," she said.

"Do you want to catch a cab or take the scenic route?"

"What's the scenic route?"

"I pick you up and fly you," he said.

There was another pause. "Can you really do that?"

"If you're not afraid."

"Okay."

He could see and feel her smile.

"Hold on." He pulled his phone and texted Sam, letting him know that Christy should meet them in the backyard with a change of clothes for Lydia. "Okay, lean into my arms."

She hesitated a moment, then leaned into him. He scooped her up and then silently and gently launched into the night.