As usual, the only reason he’d answered the knock was because his drunken mother had been on the verge of doing so, and he couldn’t bear the shame of anyone seeing her in her dirty housecoat and with all that ratty hair. The guy on the other side of the door had been dressed in a black suit and had looked like what Vin had wished his father did—neat, tidy, healthy, and calm.

Vin had lied about his parents being home, and when the man had looked beyond into the living room, Vin said that was not his mother, but a sick relative.

The evangelist’s eyes had filled with sorrow, as if he weren’t unfamiliar with the situation, and the guy had skipped his spiel, just handing over the card and telling Vin to use the number on the back if he needed shelter.

Vin had taken what was offered and gone upstairs to sit with it in his palms. He’d instantaneously loved the lady on the front because she’d looked as if she never got drunk and never yelled and never hit anyone. And to make sure she was protected, he’d hidden her picture from his mother and father by making it obvious and placing it in full view on the mirror—usually when his mother ransacked his room, she just went for the drawers and the closet and whatever was under the bed.

Now he had his answer.

As he stared at the card, he realized Marie-Terese looked exactly like her.

CHAPTER
22

Jim worked his knife over the piece of wood with care and confidence. In front of him, on the newspaper he’d laid out on the floor at his feet, a pile of wood chips was growing and Dog was right next to the whole production, watching with those big brown eyes, appearing to understand on every level why someone would choose to behave this way toward a stick.

“It’s going to be part of my chess set.” Jim nodded at a shoe box he’d been filling up over the last month. “I think I’ll make this one…. Well, I’m tired of doing pawns. So this will be the queen.”