Odessa looked at Blackwood. So did Solomon—but with different eyes. Solomon looked back and forth between Blackwood and Odessa. “Maybe we were partners once. We had a…a special job to do. The two of us. I’ll give you that. But now, at the end…it all looks so different. What was it all for? I go off…and he stays. With a new partner to take my place.”

Solomon meant her. “No,” Odessa said. “You sent me to him for his help. In clearing my name. But I’ll never get my gun back. It’s only a matter of time before I’m let go.”

“I’m sorry,” said Solomon. “Sorry you got pulled into this. Sorry for my part in it. I’m not thinking very straight. Do you understand what I am saying? I am trying to warn you.”

Odessa hated seeing Solomon like this. She put the back of her hand to her mouth, unable to think of anything to say.

Blackwood stepped forward. Solomon’s hand rested on his chest, and Blackwood reached for it. Solomon tried to pull back once he realized what was happening, but Blackwood would not let him go. He gripped Solomon’s hand, the forever man looking down into the eyes of the dying man.

Blackwood said to him, “You never got over the boy in Mississippi. Your first case.”

Solomon’s face relaxed. “Vernon,” he said. Solomon’s mind seemed to clear. His eyes found Blackwood’s face—really found it—for the first time that afternoon.

“You are wrong about what you accomplished in your time,” said Blackwood. “You were instrumental in saving this world many times over. You have a legacy, Earl Solomon. A great and secret legacy. No one else knows the things we have seen.”

Tears welled in Solomon’s eyes. Odessa saw his knuckles whiten, returning Blackwood’s grip with what little remained of his strength.

“You were right about one thing,” said Blackwood. “I do envy you your final journey. May it be a peaceful one.”

Tears shook loose, spilling down Solomon’s gaunt cheeks. On deep, cleansing breaths, he said, “Thank you.”

Blackwood released him. Solomon’s hand lay back across his belly over the sheet. He was calm again. He was present.

His gaze found Odessa’s. After a moment, he nodded, as though reassuring her he was all right. “Just be careful,” he said.

Odessa nodded, smiling out of relief rather than joy.

Solomon’s gaze drifted upward almost to the ceiling, as though watching something else. Odessa thought they were losing him again, until his hand lifted up, pointing above her head.

“There,” he said.

She turned slowly, indulging him…only to realize that the television was in fact behind and above her head, the sound muted.