I gaped down at the woman, my chest thrumming. How did she know me? And how did she know Jemma?

“Sally,” Beezle squeaked in my ear. “The nurse from the hospital who took us up to see Jemma and the girls that day.”

“Ah … good evening, Sally.” I made a half-hearted attempt to sound suave but only managed tired and flat.

Sally’s expression turned from delighted to concerned. “Are you quite alright, Simeon? You seem … a bit off.”

“Understatement of the century,” Bub remarked. I shrugged to jostle him into silence.

“Just heading home. It’s been an excruciatingly long day. But I really need to … to deposit this envelope into a red letter receptacle. It’s rather urgent.”

Sally peered down at the letter, and, stifling a gasp, I quickly placed my thumb over the writing so Sally wouldn’t see that it was addressed to Jemma. I could just imagine the inquisition I’d get from the well-meaning busybody if she thought I, the ‘boyfriend’ of Jemma Bliss, was posting letters to her rather than just dropping in at her house.

“Oh, of course! You poor fellow, I can see that you’re utterly spent. There’s a post box just out the front of my apartment building—if you want, I can drop it in for you—save you the hassle?”

I gripped the letter tighter, clutching it to my chest. “It is imperative that I personally see this letter delivered to the … the post box.”

Her expression turned dubious, but she nodded. “Alrighty then, if you head straight here for two blocks and then take a left, there’s one out the front of the library.”

“Thank you, Sally.” I gave a curt nod, turning in the direction she had indicated.

“Will we see you at the hospital again soon?” she called out, stopping me in my tracks. “The girls do not stop talking about you. And Jemma gets this misty-eyed look whenever I mention you to her. She’s very taken with you, you know.”

Devils don’t cry. Devils do not cry!

“I’m afraid my schedule is very busy for the next little while,” I muttered without turning to look at her, too afraid of what she would see in my face. “Tell the … the girls that I miss them very much, and I hope that their art is going well … and their healing.”

I strode off without waiting for her to reply, blinking furiously.

“Guess devils do cry, Boss …” Beezle’s quiet observation was so full of sympathy that I wanted to howl. Instead, I picked up the pace until the red box I was seeking came into view. When the letter disappeared through the little slot, I blew out a long, tremulous gust of breath.