“Sit down with him, Ginny,” suggested her father. “You’ll sprain your back.”

“I’ve tried that already, Papa,” Rina answered.

“Remember what happened when you carried Sammy too much as a baby,” her mother warned.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Give him to me,” her father said. As soon as he touched Jacob’s shoulders, the boy emitted a high-pitched wail.

“Forget it, Papa,” Rina said. “He just won’t go to anyone else.”

“Let him sleep with you, Ginny,” the mother suggested. “Just for the night.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful,” Rina said, sarcastically.

“For one night it won’t kill you. I did it with you,” her mother said. “You sleep on your own now, don’t you?”

“Mother, I am not going to let him sleep with me. You know all the trouble I had with the boys doing that after Yitzchak, alav hashalom, died.”

“He’s falling asleep,” her father announced. “Try putting him down.”

“Everytime I try putting him to bed he screams,” Rina said, exasperatedly.

“Try again,” her mother insisted.

“At least let me wait until he’s deep asleep.”

“And until your back breaks,” her mother muttered. “Just let him sleep with you.”

“Rina, maybe I should come back at another time,” Decker said.

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Mrs. Elias said acidly.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Rina said, forcing control into her voice.

“After all, we know the reason behind Yonkel’s nightmares—”

“It wasn’t anyone’s fault,” Rina defended.

“Nothing like this ever happened when we had the children,” her mother insisted.

“It was one of those unfortunate things, Mrs. Elias,” Decker answered, supressing his anger. “He’ll survive.”

“There is a big difference between survival and happiness, Detective,” Mrs. Elias shot back. “I survived the camps.”

“Mother, that’s not fair!” Rina exclaimed.

“I think I’d better leave, Rina,” Decker said.

“As I was saying, that is to be expected,” her mother said.

“Don’t pay any attention to her—”

“That is what you call me, Ginny?” said her mother, with her eyes watering. “Her?”

Decker balled his fingers into a fist and headed for the door. Jacob shouted out his name.

Decker turned. “C’mere, fellah,” he said, holding out his arms.

This time, Jacob leaped.

“Let’s talk in bed, okay?”

Jacob nodded. Decker carried him into the bedroom, relieved. As he cooed the youngster back into sleep, he heard hostile mutterings outside. Gently, he brushed black locks off Jacob’s forehead and tucked him into bed, the boy’s bony shoulders peeking out from the edge of the comforter. As soon as Jacob drifted off, Decker rose from the bed, acid pouring into his gut, his head throbbing in anticipation of the showdown.