“Yes, they do,” agreed Mary. “But I don’t think it was an accident at all. And I don’t think the driver was himself that day.”

Milos withheld his opinion. “And … were any lives lost?”

“What a curious expression. How can a life be lost when you know exactly where it is?” Mary said. “Two children did leave the world of the living, if that’s what you mean. The news was kind enough to show their photographs, but I had already seen their faces. Jill had brought them both into the incubator earlier that day. Of course they were asleep, but I still recognized them.”

Finally she turned to him. “You knew, didn’t you? Don’t lie to me, Milos.”

“I am truly sorry,” was all Milos dared to say.

“Sorry that I found out, or sorry you didn’t tell me that Jill’s amulet was fake?”

He looked at the bubbles in his champagne, feeling all his hope begin to extinguish. Milos had no idea what Mary would do now. Would she throw him out? Would she have both him and Jill hurled off the pier to join Pugsy? Directness and honesty, thought Milos. That’s what Mary respects. And so rather than wasting his breath trying to spin things to his favor, he simply told her the truth.

“I was afraid to tell you. I thought you might blame all skinjackers for what Jill was doing. I feared that you might send us away. That you might send me away. But I’m not like Jill… .”

And instead of throwing him out, Mary tapped her champagne glass very gently to his and said, “Do you really think I am so shortsighted as to let you go, Milos?” He didn’t think he was supposed to answer, so he didn’t. “It does change things, though,” she said. “Since we don’t have to wait for accidents, I can increase Jill’s quota.”

“Increase … Jill’s quota?” Milos was stunned.

“The more opportunities we have to save innocent children from the living world, the better, don’t you agree?”

As Mary’s words tumbled through Milos’s mind, he knew there were two sides to which they could fall. The side of terror, or the side of wonder. He also instinctively knew that the choice he made now would define his entire afterlife—it was, in fact, the very focal point of his existence. Milos had always considered himself a good person at heart. Admittedly, he leaned toward serving his own best interests, but in an enlightened way—always in a way that helped others even as it helped himself.

“Milos, are you all right? Did you hear me?”

Terror or wonder? To which side would it fall? He still wasn’t sure, yet he forced a smile, and took a step closer. “You never cease to amaze me,” he said, which was true.