“So I need to temper it somehow.” Fiji pulled out the old notebook she kept in a drawer under the counter and got a pen from the caddy on her desk. “And you’re having flashbacks. So I need to cut down on the . . .” Her voice trailed off as she wrote a few more words. “Thanks, Manfred. I appreciate the feedback.”

“Have you met the new guy yet?”

“What new guy?”

“He may tell you his name is Rick, but he also says it’s Barry. Horowitz. He came in the middle of the night two nights ago. He’s the grandson of one of the residents.”

“And he’s staying?” She was still waiting for the pertinence of the new guy to manifest itself.

“For a while, at least,” Manfred said. “He’s unusual, Fiji. Even for here.”

Diederik came in, looking hopeful. Fiji immediately put a plate up on the counter, piled with homemade biscuits covered with plastic wrap. “Oh, thank you,” the boy said. He was even more appreciative when Fiji put a knife, a dish of butter, and some jam beside the biscuits.

They were both giving him a careful once-over. “I don’t think you grew as much,” Manfred said. “It’s slowing down.”

“I did get some bigger clothes, just in case, but I believe you’re right,” Fiji said, pushing the plate closer to Diederik, who unwrapped the biscuits with speed. He remembered to offer them to Manfred, but when Manfred shook his head, the boy looked relieved and dug in. Fiji put a glass of juice beside the plate, and Diederik drained it at a gulp.

“What does the Rev feed you?” Manfred asked.

“Oatmeal every morning. But some bacon also, this morning.” Diederik’s answer was not very clear.

“I don’t know where you put it,” Manfred said.

Fiji looked a little forlorn, as if she well understood the compulsion to eat, but Diederik said, “I’m always hungry. Always. I hope it won’t be like this forever!”

“I’m just guessing, but I don’t think it will be,” Fiji said. “Do you expect your father will come back soon?” She glanced at the calendar on her desk anxiously.

“Yes, after he completes his job,” Diederik said. He pushed the plate away from him, abruptly uninterested. “My aunt couldn’t keep me anymore. My mother died.”

Manfred could tell Fiji was as unnerved as he was. He picked up a wisp of a picture from the boy’s head. “Did you have a brother or sister?” he asked.

“I had an older sister. But she died before she was born, my mother told me.” Diederik looked suddenly forlorn.

“I’m so sorry,” Manfred said. It was definitely time to change the subject. “Listen, Diederik, when you finish doing whatever Fiji has lined up for you to do, can you come over to my place? I have a computer game you might enjoy.”