“I’m looking for my sister,” I told the tired-looking middle-aged woman behind the counter. “Her name is Claudia Moore. She’s been in your outpatient program in the past.”

“We don’t give out information about patients.” Her eyelids drooped so low that she seemed like a sleepy turtle trying to blank out the scene around her.

“This isn’t a privacy issue. I know she’s in your methadone program, or she used to be. She’s missing.”

“We don’t give out information.”

“Can you just tell me if you’ve seen her?” I held up a picture of Claudia. It was taken at the engagement party Martin and I had hosted two years ago. Claudia was wearing a black vintage dress she’d borrowed from me with ebony fishnet stockings and heels. She wasn’t smiling at the camera but she wasn’t scowling, either. When she wanted to, she looked beautiful.

“We don’t give out—”

I turned on my heel and walked out the door before she finished. Frustrated, I paced the block, watching for people arriving or leaving. By New York City law, methadone patients weren’t allowed to loiter near their clinics—that scared too many neighborhood residents and business owners. If I wanted to catch anyone I knew, I’d have to wait.

It took close to an hour, but a familiar face finally materialized just before four. With his relatively clean clothes and his dark hair slicked back, I didn’t recognize him at first. What gave him away was the shock of recognition on his own face when he saw me. His head swiveled towards the clinic doors, then to the street, as if judging the best exit. I grabbed the arm of his black leather jacket before he could run. “Mal Sabado. What the hell are you doing here?”

“Hey, Claudia’s sister,” he said casually, as if we were pals. “Didn’t think you were in New York anymore.” He grinned up at me, revealing several gold teeth. Even though my boots had only a low kitten heel, I towered over him. “Why you always look so mad when I see you?”

“I’m not a fan of drug dealers. Especially ones who keep my sister hooked.”

“It’s a free country, Claudia’s sister. People got the right to do what they want.”

I felt queasy, seeing him up close. He had pale skin that was pockmarked from acne, giving him the look of a worm-eaten apple. “Just tell me where she is.”

“’Scuse me?”

“Claudia is missing. Do you know where she is?”

“Haven’t seen her in a while now. You check her apartment, maybe?” Something flickered in his eyes. He stared at me curiously.

“She’s not there.”

“Maybe she moved?”

“She hasn’t moved. When was the last time you saw her?”

“Dunno. Few months, I guess. Police busted me, put me out of business.”

“Then why are you out of jail?”