She wasn’t exaggerating. The place was like Fort Knox, thanks to the loan she’d gotten from her estranged husband. If money couldn’t buy happiness, then it sure could buy peace of mind.

For the past month, contractors and security experts had worked flat out to turn our home into a fortress. High electric fences were erected around the house, isolating it from the rest of the sprawling property, and the only way to access it was through an electric gate that was set up with security cameras and an intercom.

All the windows and doors had been burglar-proofed and sensors were installed along the garden perimeter so that if anyone breached the fence, we’d know about it before they reached the house. A state-of-the-art alarm system was set up inside as well.

“A bird can’t fart near the house without our knowing,” Ruth had said proudly once all the work was finished.

I couldn’t help but think that Daniel would still be alive if the rectory where he’d lived had had this kind of security. The depressing part was that the security company hadn’t even asked why we were having to go to such extreme measures to ensure our safety. Gated communities and security estates were springing up everywhere as violent crime increased.

“You can’t protect yourself enough from the kaffirs,” one of the contractors had said to Ruth.

“Actually, all of this is to protect a kaffir from the whites,” Ruth had replied cheerfully. “And don’t say kaffir.”

The expression on his face had been priceless.

“He’s going to be safe here. We all are,” Ruth said now. “It’s going to be fine, you’ll see.”

“I wish I understood,” I said, shaking my head.

“What?”

“This whim of yours. Why you suddenly so desperately want this child.”

“Whim?” She put the second curler down and turned around to face me. “You think this is a whim?” Before I could answer, she barreled on. “I had my first miscarriage when I was twenty-one. They said it happened all the time and that I was young, that I’d get pregnant again. And they were right, I did, when I was twenty-three. But I lost that baby as well. I fell pregnant for the third time when I was twenty-seven. Another miscarriage at twelve weeks. They ran a whole bunch of tests and still couldn’t figure out what the problem was.