“Why d’you say that? Of course you did the right thing—the only thing. You did God’s work.”

“Yeah? Well, two weeks later he stabbed a girl to death. The cops caught him, put him away, but so what? Is that any consolation to the girl he killed? I was her only consolation, and I failed her.”

Dickerson shook his head. “But, come on, how could you have known?”

“I knew him,” Lucy said. “I knew what he was capable of. He was a rageful, violent, sadistic piece of shit.”

He wondered why she was telling him this, what she was trying to work out. “Sounds to me you were in a no-win situation. No matter what decision you made that night, you were always going to look back.” He put his hands flat on the table. “I think you need to confess.”

She looked up, alarmed. “What?”

“I mean, you’re Mexican, yes? Roman Catholic. So it should…” He paused, thinking of how best to proceed. “It’s clear you’ve strayed, Lucy. Your distance from God has obviously hurt you. My parish church is nearby. I know when I’m troubled it’s the place to go to find peace … and to get answers.”

“God speaks to you?”

He laughed softly. “Not in the way you mean. But when I open my heart to God, answers always come.” He nodded. “Come, we’ll go together.”

Lucy shook her head. “Sorry, no. I have nothing to say to God.”

*   *   *

Charlie was foraging in the dead refrigerator with her light for something for her and Alice to eat, when her vision blurred for an instant. Seeing the sudden pallor of her arms and hands, she dug into her pocket for the vial of Imuran, popped two pills, and swallowed.

Even through this precursor to another attack of Takayasu’s, she was aware that Alice had risen from her seat at the table. On little mink’s feet she crossed to the counter where the knives were housed in their wooden rack. Charlie waited until she felt Alice coming at her, knife pointed at her back, before turning.

Grasping Alice’s extended forearm, she jerked her toward her, twisted the arm so hard the girl cried out. Charlie took the knife, dragged Alice to the counter, and forced Alice’s hand down, fingers splayed.

“What are you going to do?” Alice said in a shaky voice.

“Teach you a lesson in humility. When someone is nice to you, you don’t try to stab them in the back.” Wielding the knife, she said, “Which finger do you need the least?”

“What?”

Alice almost fainted. Charlie had to use her hip to keep her on her feet. “Choose, Alice. Or I’ll choose for you.”

“Don’t!” Alice cried, trying and failing to work her hand free. “Please don’t! I’m sorry!”

“Okay,” Charlie said. “My choice.”