Letty slid off his lap and stood looking out at the sky. “I talked to Tanya’s lawyer today. I’ve got to go back to New York. There’s so much stuff to settle with her estate. The most important thing is, we’ve got to get a judge to name me as Maya’s legal guardian.”

“But Wingfield isn’t even her biological father,” Joe protested. “He’s going to prison, and if I have anything to do with it, he’ll spend the rest of his life there. And besides, your sister left a will naming you as Maya’s guardian. What is there to fight?”

“Tanya represented to Evan that he was Maya’s father. His name is on her birth certificate. So right now, as far as the law is concerned, he is, in fact, her father. I’ll probably have to get a DNA test to eliminate Evan as Maya’s father.”

“How long can all that take?”

“I don’t know. Sammi says there’ll be hearings, so I’ll have to be there for that. And a judge may want to interview me, and Maya.”

“Sammi?”

“Tanya’s lawyer. She’s the one who drew up the will for Tanya. And of course, Tanya didn’t bother to tell Sammi that Evan wasn’t Maya’s biological father.”

“Fine. So you guys live here, but you fly back up there for the legal stuff.”

“It doesn’t work like that,” she said. “I can’t keep ping-ponging Maya from place to place. She’ll start kindergarten in the fall. I told you before, I need some stability in our lives. Especially now that we know she actually saw Evan kill her mom. I need to find her a good child therapist.”

“We’ve got kindergartens right here in Treasure Island,” Joe said. “And therapists. Letty, do you really want to raise Maya in a place like New York? C’mon? Where would you live? You told me before your old apartment was the size of the efficiency. Can you honestly tell me you want to go back to that?”

“I’ll have to find a new place,” she said.

“And what’ll you do about a job? How are you gonna afford living in New York with a kid?”

A breeze had kicked up, and she suddenly felt chilly. Maybe it was the thought of spending another winter in the city. Of bundling Maya into a snowsuit, mittens, socks, and boots. Or maybe it was just the wind blowing off the Gulf. She had to keep reminding herself that it was technically still winter, even in Florida, in late March, when the nighttime temperatures dropped into the low sixties.

Letty crossed her arms and rubbed them to keep them warm.