I wanted to tell him not to run away, that somehow this would all work out, but I knew he had to go. In that moment, I felt as though I might be safe, but he was in great danger. I felt the protection of the two adults standing next to me. Deep down, though, I knew a colored family was no protection at all. They couldn’t even protect themselves from the danger I was bringing to them.

Jesse said he had to take my car, and I pressed the key into his hand. I wanted to say more—so much more—but he took off at a run toward my car. We watched him drive off in a cloud of dust, the bulky, crumpled mural blocking the side and rear windows. Where could he go that he would be safe?

Nowhere, I thought, and I started to cry.

Tears running down my cheeks, I looked from Mr. Williams’s startled face to Aunt Jewel’s. I sobbed, apologizing to them over and over again.

Mr. Williams was angry. He said something about Jesse spending too much time with me, too little time working on the farm where he belonged.

I wanted to say something about Jesse’s talent. How he shouldn’t be held back. But who was I to pass that sort of judgment when I’d thrown him into a mess that could hold him back for the rest of his life?

Aunt Jewel put an arm around my shoulders and told me to come with her into the house. She called me “Sugar,” and I felt like a child as she led me inside. The house seemed empty and quiet and our footsteps echoed as we walked through the dining room where I’d shared a meal with the family not all that long ago, then up the stairs. I was glad no one seemed to be home.

She led me into a small bedroom. A narrow bed was against one wall, a window next to the metal headboard. There was a wooden chair near the window, but no dresser or bureau in the room. A huge old chest stood at the foot of the bed.

She told me we were in Nellie’s room. There was a mattress beneath Nellie’s bed that could be pulled out for me to sleep on. “The police less likely to look in a child’s room for a … for you,” she said, but added that she needed to think of a good hiding place for me in case they showed up. She asked if I thought they would, and I heard the first hint of worry in her voice.

I just nodded. I couldn’t seem to find my voice.

Aunt Jewel studied my face and I didn’t turn away. I needed to put my trust in her.

“How far along are you?” she asked.