And I’m as surprised as anyone.

“Mr. Orlov, listen to me. Here’s the deal. Please listen.”

There’s silence from Orlov’s end, so I keep talking.

“I can guarantee you a supply of healthy babies from my hospital, Gramatan University. I can do it all very discreetly. I can do it neatly. Frankly, I can make it a lot easier for you to even obtain babies. The pregnant women trust me. I’m sure you have some connections at hospitals already. But I can assure you, none of those connections will be as helpful to you as I can be.”

There is a pause, a long pause. I am determined to wait Orlov out. I will not speak again until he speaks.

Finally. “I would be a fool to trust you, Ms. Ryuan, but I have had people watching you, and I know a few things about you—a single mother, a poor family, a drug-addicted sibling with a criminal record. So I am not certain. Perhaps we can work out something. I have the phone number of your assistant. I will—”

I am shocked. “Troy? Troy is working with you?”

Orlov laughs. “Of course not. All I said was that I had his contact information. I have much information on you and your colleagues…and your son, young William.”

I am suddenly too sick to speak. My eyes feel hot and salty.

Orlov continues. “So here is how we will proceed. I will text this Troy person, and I will give him the address of where you and I might meet. A place. A time. Intimate. Secret. And please keep in mind that I know so very, very much. It would be silly for you to have a group of stupid New York cops hiding in the bushes.”

Orlov hangs up. The room fills with words like “Great job,” “Good setup,” “Very nice, very nice.”

But Leon Blumenthal knows that I am very scared—mostly for my boy, but also for my mom, my brother, for myself.

When the room empties, leaving only Blumenthal, Bobby Cilia, and me, Blumenthal says, “So what do you think, Lucy? Are you still willing to go through with the meeting, on your own?”

I simply nod my head in fear and confusion.

Blumenthal speaks quietly. “Depending on where Orlov wants to meet, we’ll have NYPD strategically placed…Not quite ‘hiding in the bushes,’ but hiding somewhere nearby. And of course we’ll work with a decoy or two, but you’re basically going to be on your own.”

I nod my head. It means two things at once: I understand and I’ll do it.

“Are you sure? We can always scrap this,” Blumenthal says.

My own cell phone rings. I answer. It’s Troy.

“Where are you, honey?” he asks.

“I’m back in New York,” I say softly.