The breeze picked up briefly, whipping across the outcrop, drawing dirt from the desert floor in dizzying whirls. An animal—maybe a bird—called from the middle distance. A captivating sound.

“There is one. A fantasy, I guess.” Kitty’s jaw trembled. She pressed her lips together and swallowed hard. “Holding my son. Being in his arms.”

“Your son?”

“Levi. He’s six years old.” Kitty nodded. The sunlight flashed off her shades. “And he’s the most perfect thing in this or any world. More beautiful than the moon . . . than the stars.”

“I don’t doubt that,” Luke said. His brief smile faded into a frown. “But how is being in his arms a fantasy?”

A tear zipped down from behind Kitty’s sunglasses and she scuffed it away. “I knew before he was born that I couldn’t give him the life that he—that any child—deserved. I didn’t want him to have the disadvantages that I had, with a daddy who didn’t care, living in a neighborhood that would always cut away at his ambitions.”

She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. Luke couldn’t see her eyes behind her sunglasses, but the somber shape of her mouth relayed more than enough emotion.

“So I found him a new life, a new family—reputable people, with money, but more importantly, with time for him and love in their hearts.” She cleared her throat, lifting her chin as she inhaled. “Levi will never want for attention, and he’ll have more opportunities than I ever had.”

“Even so,” Luke said. “That must have been so hard for you.”

“He was five weeks old. A tiny bundle in my arms. So beautiful. So pure.” Another tear raced down Kitty’s cheek. “That was the last time I held him. I whispered in his ear that I loved him, and let him go.”

She took a moment, lost in thought. More tears came, shimmering on her face in the fading light.

“I tell myself,” she said, “that by not being there, I gave him everything.”

“You’ll always be there,” Luke said. “You’ll always be a part of who he is.”

A vehicle came into view, rumbling east on Sierra Vista. Not a blue Econoline, but a rusty GMC pickup with a dirt bike in the bed. Rising dust marked its passage, as distinct as a vapor trail.

“I guess he’ll ask about me one day,” Kitty said, once the truck had passed and the sound of its engine started to fade. “Levi has a different skin color than the rest of his family. That kind of thing tends to prompt conversation. And if he ever wants to meet me . . .”

She removed her sunglasses, wiped her eyes, then the muscles in her face relaxed as she slipped into reverie. It lasted only seconds, but it was deep. Even her voice changed, filtered through some dreamier place.