"There is still one mystery, or one additional one," I said as we walked home. Dinner had been very enjoyable, including a complete recounting of the case of the missing test answers for Mr. Bostwick, who was clearly very well informed about the various people involved.
"Which is?" she asked, frowning as she tried to figure out what I was going to say.
"Ron says she's friends with Will, but she doesn't like the other two. How does she tell them apart?"
"Have you asked her?"
I shook my head. "I have a feeling that the answer would involve some eye rolling about clueless old Dad. I try to avoid that."
"I see your point." She frowned. "You don't think she's interested in Will, do you? I mean, she's only twelve. I don't think she's ready for a ménage à quatre."
I shook my head again. "I don't think so. She was very open about Will being her friend, and it seems that when she's interested in a boy, she's much more secretive about it."
"Ah," she said. "I think you're right." She smiled and took my hand. "I will admit that this is a conversation I never thought I'd be having."
I laughed and squeezed her hand. "I know what you mean."
"Are you sure Ron will speak up about Corey?" she asked after a moment.
"Yes," I said. "She won't want to, but she'll do it. Because it's what you would do."
The great detective searched my face for evidence that I was kidding. When she didn't find any, she frowned, working to adjust her view of the world to include this new information.
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