“Daddy’s went over to his sister in Sumter. She drove up and got him, but she won’t have nothin’ to do with us. Say we the devil’s own offspring, and we gonna burn in hel .”

“Why have you come to see me?”

Neither sister would raise her eyes to mine.

“Geneva?”

Geneva kept her gaze on the fingers curled around her Coke.

“We gonna tel her,” she said, her voice flat.

Tamela gave a suit-yourself shrug.

“This mornin’ my cousin is poundin’ on the door, yel in’ her man looking at my sister too much, yel in’ at us to get out. Daddy’s mad at us, our own kin’s mad at us, and Darryl’s wantin’ to kil us.”

Geneva’s head was down so I couldn’t see her face, but the trembling in her ponytail revealed her desperation.

“We gotta leave where we was, we can’t go home, case Darryl get out and come looking for us.” Her voice trailed off. “We run out of places.”

“I ain’t—” Tamela started, but couldn’t finish.

I reached over and placed one hand on each of theirs. This time she didn’t pul away.

“You wil stay with me until it’s safe to go home.”

“We won’t take nothin’.” Tamela’s words were hushed. The voice of a frightened child.

I took Boyd for a five-minute walk. Then we spent half an hour digging out towels and bedding for the sleeper sofa. By the time the Banks sisters were settled, Boyd having been granted a place in the den over Geneva’s objection, it was wel past eleven.

Too agitated to sleep, I took my laptop to my bedroom, logged on, and resumed my Klinefelter’s research. I’d been at it ten minutes when my cel phone rang.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan sounded alarmed at the tenor of my voice.

I told him about Geneva and Tamela.

“You sure it’s legit?”

“I think so.”

“Wel , be careful. They could be fronting for this mope Tyree.”

“I’m always careful.” No need to mention that moment of uncertainty concerning the lock. Or the unset alarm.

“You must be relieved that the Bankses are safe.”

“Yes. And I think I’ve discovered something else.”

“Does it have to do with fractals?”

“Ever heard of Klinefelter’s syndrome?”

“No.”

“How are you fixed for chromosomes?”

“Twenty-three pairs. Should hold me.”

“That would suggest that something about you is normal.”

“I have a feeling I’m about to learn about chromosomes.”

I let him listen to the sound of me saying nothing.

“OK.” I heard a match strike, then a deep inhalation. “Please?”

“As you so astutely point out, genetical y normal individuals have twenty-three pairs of chromosomes, one per set coming from each parent. Twenty-two pairs are cal ed autosomes, the other pair is made up of the sex chromosomes.”

“XX gets you the pink booties, XY gets you the blue.”