“When it’s ready, I’ll take it up. I assume Zachary won’t be back soon.”

“He no happy when he come from walk with Señor Max this morning. When Señor Max go to work, he tell Jose to bring the pickup, and he drive off very fast, like how you say, ‘bat from the hell’?” She closed and opened her fists rapidly to indicate speed.

“A bat out of hell.” Hannah took the tray, to which Anna had added a bud vase with a spray of yellow forsythia, and climbed the stairs. The door across the hall from Max’s and her bedroom was ajar. Hannah widened the opening with her foot and entered. The window shades had been lowered as if to hide the limpid bulge that lay beneath the bedspread.

“Good day, Sarina. I’ve brought you something to eat. Here, I’ll rest it on this table. It’s nearly noon. May I open the shades and let the light in?”

The form did not move or speak. Hannah set the tray down, walked to the windows, and opened the shades. Light flooded the room. Too much light all at once, she thought, and let the shades fall halfway down. “Everything in moderation,” she said to herself.

It was then that the small round head, dark hair straggling about her face, emerged from the covers. Tears stained her cheeks, and Hannah was moved to pity.

“Let me get you a damp washcloth to wipe your face and hands.”

The young woman’s lips parted, though no words came. A half smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, and she accepted the washcloth and wiped her face and eyes. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I am hungry.”

“Good.” Hannah spoke softly. “Do you want to get out of bed, or shall I bring the tray to you?”

“I’ll get up. I need to use the bathroom, thank you.” Laboriously, Sarina swung her legs to the floor, eased from the bed, and with great effort, her hands holding her arched back, stood. Then came short little gasps. “I am a big, fat, ugly sow.”

Hannah did not respond, but turned away and listened as Sarina’s slippers shuffled across the wood floor, listened to the small grunts of discomfort as she moved across the room, heard the bathroom door open and close, and water being turned on in the sink. How frightened and alone she must feel, Hannah thought. And Lord only knows what kind of comfort Zachary provides. Then the bathroom door opened and the slippers shuffled back across the room. Hannah turned as Sarina carefully, slowly lowered herself into the armchair that Max and Zachary had carried upstairs from the living room. With her glossy dark hair brushed off her face and tied back with a ribbon, Sarina seemed a frightened child.