They had come here for answers and now Myron thought that maybe he really did know them all.

“Go,” Win said.

Myron hugged Win. Win hugged back. The hug was fierce and tight and lasted a long time. No words were exchanged—they would have just been superfluous. But Myron remembered what Win had said after Suzze first came to his office looking for help, about our tendency to think good things will last forever. They don’t. We think that we will always be young, that the moments and people we cherish are everlasting. But they’re not. As Myron held his friend in his arms, he knew that nothing would ever be the same between them. Something in their relationship had changed. Something was gone forever.

When the hug finally ended, Myron headed back down the corridor and changed back into his clothes. Beefy was there. The other two goons were gone. Myron didn’t know about their fate. He didn’t much care. Beefy nodded at Myron. Myron walked over to Beefy and said, “I need one more favor.” He told Beefy what he wanted. Beefy looked surprised but he said, “Give me a minute.” He disappeared into the other room, came back, handed Myron what he had asked for. Myron thanked him. He headed outside, slipped into Win’s car, and started it up.

It was almost over.

He was a mile down the road when Esperanza called him. “Your father’s awake,” she said. “He wants to see you.”

“Tell him I love him.”

“You’re on your way?”

“No,” he said. “I can’t come yet. Not until I do what he asked.”

Then Myron hung up the phone and started to cry.

Chapter 33

33

Christine Shippee met Myron in the lobby of the Coddington Rehabilitation Institute.

“You look like death warmed over,” Christine said. “And when you think about what I see in here every day, that’s saying something.”

“I need to talk to Kitty.”

“I told you on the phone. You can’t. You trusted me to take care of her.”

“I need information.”

“Tough.”

“At the risk of sounding melodramatic, it may be a matter of life and death.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” Christine said, “but you called me for help, right?”

“Yes.”

“And you knew the rules when you put her in here, right?”

“I did. And I want her to get help. We both know she needs it. But right now my father may be dying, and he’s looking for me to get some final answers.”

“And you think Kitty has them?”

“Yes.”

“She’s a mess right now. You know how my protocol works. The first forty-eight hours are pure hell. She won’t be able to concentrate. All she’ll want is a fix.”

“I know that.”