“Not just the stripping. The public appearances and everything else that goes along with it. But yes, I did well enough that I never had to write a tell-all memoir or do a documentary, which I’ve been hounded to do for years.”

I was about to ask her what had happened to all that money and why she was strapped for cash when Ruth suddenly jumped up.

“I almost forgot! I got you a present.” She ran to her room and returned with a beautifully wrapped gift.

I immediately felt bad. “Oh, Ruth, you shouldn’t have. I didn’t get you anything.”

“Don’t worry about it.” She waved it off. “It’s for your birthday, not for Christmas. Open it.”

I took it from her and slowly set about unwrapping it, gently tugging at the tape so as not to tear the paper.

“Oh my God, this is painful to watch,” Ruth yelped, grabbing the package back from me and ripping it to shreds before passing back the box. “Here.”

“Gee, thanks,” I said wryly, lifting the lid.

“It’s a silk kimono,” Ruth squealed as I was still removing the tissue paper. “Like mine!”

I couldn’t think of anything less suited to me. “Ah, so it is.”

“I know what you’re thinking,” Ruth said.

I doubted it. “What?”

“That I couldn’t have gotten you anything less suited to you, but that’s not true. It’s beige, see? Your favorite color.” She looked so pleased with herself that I had to laugh.

As the afternoon wore on, Ruth and I switched over to wine and continued to tease each other while laughing and speaking of inconsequential things. We were behaving so much like I imagined normal sisters did, and I was enjoying it so much, that I felt I could broach the topic of the baby without it leading to a fight. “So, what have you decided to do about Mandla?”

Ruth’s expression changed so quickly from one of contentment to anguish that I wished I hadn’t brought it up. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s all I think about and I just keep going around and around in circles.”

The fact that she hadn’t dismissed taking him flat out of hand surprised me. It showed a depth of emotion and a strength of character I’d never suspected. “You found out about his prognosis on that course you went on? How unlikely he is to survive beyond his second birthday?”

“Yes, I know all that but—”

Ruth didn’t get to finish her sentence. Instead, she screamed as the window behind her disintegrated, sending shards of glass shattering inward.

Jezebel, who’d been lying near it, scrambled to her feet and scampered away just in time to avoid the second rock, which took out the remaining lounge window. I reached out to grab her, pulling her toward me by the scruff of her neck.