Her eyes were not black after all. They were a dark, deep brown, flecked with gold. The whites around them were yellowed, veined in red. She had an old woman’s downy mustache. I could see how sick she was in her pallor, feel that her hand had a shake in it.

I said, “I came to beg you for my baby.”

She looked down at me. Thinking, I hoped. Considering, her gaze full of a thousand things, but one of them was close to mercy. I could see it.

Finally she said, “You’re so pretty, up close. Real pretty. Taller than I thought, too.”

“I want my son,” I said. “And what you’re asking me to trade is impossible. You’re punishing me more than any other person. Me, and Geoff’s mother. What did we do?”

She glanced at her watch, a utilitarian thing, digital, then shook her head, her eyes on me so tender. “We do not have the time it would take me to explain. This is going to finish in my next hundred breaths, one way or another. Still, I want you to know I thought about what you said to me. About how this path I had to take was so hard on you, and Geoff’s mother as well. Did your husband tell you what he done?”

I blinked, unsure how to answer. “He told me a little,” I said at last. “But . . .” I had no excuses for him, no way to finish.

“I thought as much. Anything he said, I’m sure he made it soft, for you. So yesterday I wrote some things. Hard, true things. An explanation, if you will. Then I drove down to the post office. When you get my letter, you’ll understand what’s happened here, and why. You’ll know who Geoff’s mother is then. I added her name and address. Maybe the two of you ought to talk. You maybe can help each other cope.”

My breath caught. “You mailed me a letter?” I tried to imagine seeing Kelly Wilkerson again, reading Coral’s twisted version of the ugly story Trey had told me.

“Yes. It’s the best I can do. Now, for your boy’s sake, call your husband up. It’s time.”

Surely Marshall was safely out of view by now? Still I knelt, holding her gaze. “The best thing you could do is stop this. Tell me where my son is.” This soft woman, begging like a child, this was true and truly me. At the same time, I spoke slowly, buying Marshall precious seconds.