“Can you tell us what this is all about, miss?”

“What’s your role in the unfolding story here?”

“I understand you’re the supervising midwife.”

My own cell phone is suddenly alive with texts.

One from Blumenthal.

Will xplain all Trust me LB

One from Troy.

Teen girl w preemie need u or TracyA NOW T

And one from my mother. Mom’s text is, of course, written like a letter.

Hi, Lucy. Willie boarded the Pittsburgh train at 7:30. It arrives at Penn Station at 4:56 this evening. All is well. I think Willie has a bit of a cold. He says he doesn’t. Kids! He’s as stubborn as you were when you were his age. OOXX, Mom.

Chapter 51

Chapter 51

I’VE ONLY BEEN TO Penn Station about two million times, and every time I’m there it looks uglier than the time before. Trash cans overflow. Fluorescent lights flicker on and off. I read a newspaper article that they don’t fix the broken chairs in the waiting room because they think they’re going to rebuild the entire station soon. Great idea, but I’m pretty sure I read that article about fifteen years ago.

I’m early to meet Willie’s train. It’s scheduled to arrive at 4:56, and I’m there at 4:54. For me, that’s early. I look at the ARRIVALS board and see that it’s listed at TRACK 12 ON TIME. On time? This must be my lucky day. And it is, until I arrive at track 12 and see a large handwritten sign by the ARRIVALS board.

TRACK CHANGE. PITTSBURGH 4:56 ARRIVAL

NOW 5:10

TRACK 17

Story of my life. Too good to be true. Eventually, after a search that sent me from one staircase to another, I am standing outside track 17, which bears another handwritten sign: PITTSBURGH ARRIVAL. That’s it. Four other people seem to be waiting—an old man in a heavy black woolen coat, a young black woman in what appears to be native African dress, and two teenage boys smoking some very unpleasant-smelling weed.

A few minutes later track 17 begins discharging passengers. Estimated count? Fifty people. I push my way into the crowd and scan for Willie. The crowd thins down, and I don’t see him. I do what any normal mother would do: I panic and picture myself sobbing to Big Lucy that “I should never have listened to you! I should never have let him take the train alone!”

So maybe this is not my lucky day at all. I walk toward the train. I’m about to panic, but I know that in thirty seconds, if there’s no Willie, I’ll start yelling at everyone in sight. Then…

“Hey, Mom,” comes the familiar shout.

Thank you, God. I’ll be a good person from now on.

I turn to my left, the direction of Willie’s voice. He is standing in the doorway of one of the train cars.