“I think,” the Angel said in a much louder voice, “we can trust him.”

Stevens looked at her, frowning. “What?”

A man who had been sitting at a table with his back turned toward them silently stood, removed his lobster bib, and dropped it on the table, turning toward them. He was dressed in a finely tailored suit that fit his ordinary-sized frame like a dream. His shadowed face was half illuminated by one of the infrequent ceiling lights. It was lean and hard-looking, with an askew nose, and was generally too battered-looking to be handsome. He crossed to the table with a dancer’s grace. The Angel smiled a little. Even in this difficult time, with the terrible news that she’d just heard, she never tired of watching him move. But she still kept an eye on Stevens, whose expression had turned uncertain and concerned. She didn’t blame the policeman, what with the expression on the newcomer’s face.

“If you say so,” Billy Ray said, glaring at Stevens like a disapproving angel on Judgment Day.

Promptly at seven, there was a knock on the door, and Michelle answered it. Cesar stood in the hallway holding a bottle of wine and a small lavender gift bag encrusted with silver glitter.

“I come bearing gifts,” he said with a smile. “The wine is for you. The other,” he said, holding up the bag, “is for your daughter.”

“What a lovely thing to do!” Michelle exclaimed, stepping backward and gesturing for him to come in. “I should warn you, I’m a terrible cook. So I’ve ordered in an insane amount of Chinese.”

“Fortunately, I like Chinese.”

Michelle led him into the living room, gesturing for him to sit. “Your home is lovely,” he said with a smile. “I also like mid-century modern furniture. And your choice of colors is perfect for the period.”

She looked around her living room with an enormous sense of pride. The walls were a creamy yellow and decorated with an eclectic collection of paintings, prints, and photographs. She loved the sofa and chairs. She’d had them upholstered in a retro grey-and-white coin pattern. Adesina’s books and computer games were scattered across the coffee table and her school backpack had been tossed on one of the chairs. It all looked like something out of an idealized sixties TV show. Except that a flat-screen TV hung on the wall across from the couch. Pillows were still bunched up on the couch where she and Adesina had lain the night before to watch Adesina’s favorite cartoons. It pleased Michelle to no end that she’d made a home for them.

She smiled at Cesar. “I wanted it to be normal. Nothing fancy. I grew up with all that fancy stuff and it didn’t make me happy.” A frown slipped across her face. “Her life isn’t going to be easy for so many reasons. I want her to know what normal feels like. Not that I have a deep well of that to draw from.”