“The man has said Ohio and given an Ohio name. But this is one of their wrong ways. Our bishop has discovered from speaking with plain folk in Ohio that this is not true, and he tells us these people are the Goodgollys. He orders us to stay away from the Goodgollys because God will punish them for their sins.”

Watching Patience Goodgolly’s expression, the sheriff concluded she understood at least snatches of this.

“Young lady, I need to ask you some questions.”

Mrs. Lapp conveyed this. The girl’s reply was barely audible. “Lauter, bitte,” requested Mrs. Lapp. The sheriff moved her phone closer.

The girl repeated at a slight increase in volume. Mrs. Lapp cleared her throat and began to translate uncomfortably.

“You wear pants, she said. She will not talk to you. You can talk to me, and I can talk to her, but she won’t talk to you.”

“Because I wear pants?”

Mrs. Lapp double-checked. “Yes.”

The girl spoke again.

“And also, she says, because you carry a gun.”

Mrs. Lapp listened to more.

“She also says she doesn’t like you. She believes that you wear pants because you fornicate with women.”

The sheriff bit her tongue. The girl now flung her sheet toward her knees as if too hot, revealing her scarred wrists and forearms as she glowered toward the red sky at the window.

“Please ask her how old she is.”

Mrs. Lapp did so.

“She doesn’t know how old she is.”

“What happened to her father?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Who took her away and tied her up in that house?”

“She doesn’t know.”

“Where did she get the beer?”

“On the road.”

“Why was she on the road?”

“She was walking.”

“Why was she walking?”

Patience Goodgolly turned her head and glared directly at the sheriff as she spoke.

“She said…”

Mrs. Lapp hesitated. A nurse stepped in.

“She said that she was walking because she can’t fly.”

To hide her surprise, the sheriff picked up her phone and saw that a notification had appeared. Harley had come home. Thank God.

I heard what happened at the pool, he texted. Taylor is still upstairs mad as hell. When will u b off?

She exhaled and stepped toward the window, trying to bring her focus back. Because she can’t fly. It wouldn’t work to press the girl while she clearly felt angry and stubborn. It would be better to wait until her medical condition and age were fully known. But what next? In the parking lot beyond the window, hordes of some large insect had appeared to swarm about the newly glowing lights. The sky above looked infernal.

Off soon, she texted Harley. Home in 30.

“Thank you, Mrs. Lapp.”