David sat at the table between the windows and broke apart what looked like a castle of LEGOs. His walker was by his side.

“What’s your favorite thing to build, Davie?”

“Water,” he mumbled without stopping the disassembly. “I like water.”

“Can I get you a glass?”

Davie turned around and looked at Jesse for the first time. The boy’s uncombed, straw-colored hair swirled in a cowlick and his pale brown eyes studied his visitor. “Glass?” He was clearly confused. Then his face brightened. “No. Not a glass. A molecule.” He bent over and picked up a Tinkertoy construction. A larger hub connected to two smaller hubs by sticks.

Jesse laughed. “Yes. Two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen atom. Water.”

Davie smiled. Then looked out the window. “That’s an SUV. Where’s the gray car?”

“It’s being repaired,” Jesse said, not wanting to get into a discussion of government versus private vehicles. “Miss Crestwater borrowed this one.”

“Miss Crest—” He held up the Tinkertoy creation.

“Water,” Jesse said. “Miss Crestwater. Very clever, Davie.”

The boy beamed, now suddenly relaxed. He pointed to Jesse’s computer bag. “For me?”

“No, for my work.” Jesse decided there was no harm in taking out the computer. He had a few games on it that maybe he could play with Davie. He sat on the edge of the bed closest to the boy and unzipped the backpack.

As soon as the laptop appeared, Davie clapped his hands. “It’s Daddy’s.”

“No, it’s mine.”

The boy became upset. “No, it’s Daddy’s.”

Rather than argue, Jesse powered up his MacBook Pro. The display background appeared, a shot of the Golden Gate Bridge rising out of patches of heavy fog.

“No,” Davie agreed. “It’s not Daddy’s.”

“But your daddy’s is like it, right?”

“Daddy’s gone.”

“I know. I’m sad. Your daddy was a nice man. He was my friend.”

Tears welled in the boy’s eyes. He looked up at Jesse and then at a bookshelf on the wall where instead of volumes, a variety of LEGO creations filled the shelves. “Daddy would build those with me. I like the cars and trucks.”

Jesse crossed the room to admire the collection. One especially caught his eye. It was a vehicle about two feet long and six inches high. Jesse recognized Finch’s Ford Escape. Escape. If only he had escaped. Jesse picked it up and found it to be heavier than it looked.

“No.” Davie pushed himself up from the table. “That’s Daddy’s secret.”

Secret. The word echoed in Jesse’s head, but in the whispered voice of Jonathan Finch. He shook the model. Something rattled inside. “Yes. Your daddy’s secret.” Jesse smiled as he lied. “Your daddy told me about it. For his computer.”

Davie nodded.