“Want me to wait?”

“This may take a while. Thanks again. I’ll settle up with you in the morning.”

“I’ll have the bill ready.”

Jack kissed the sleeping Vicky on the head and slid out of the seat. He was stiff and sore.

“Are you coming over?” Gia asked, finally looking at him.

“As soon as I can,” he said, glad the invitation was still open. “If you still want me to.”

“I want you to.”

“Then I’ll be there. Within an hour. I promise.”

“You’ll be okay?”

He was grateful for her worried expression.

“Sure.”

He slammed the door and watched them drive off. Then he began the long climb up to the third floor. When he reached his door, key in hand, he hesitated. A chill crept over him. What was on the other side? What he wanted to find was an empty front room and a young Kolabati asleep in his bed. He would deposit both necklaces on the nightstand, where she would find them in the morning, then he would leave for Gia’s place. That would be the easy way. Kolabati would know her brother was dead without his actually having to tell her. Hopefully, she would be gone when he got back.

Let’s make this easy, he thought. Let something be easy tonight!

He opened the door and stepped into the front room. It was dark. Even the kitchen light was out. The only illumination was the weak glow leaking down the hall from his bedroom. All he could hear was breathing—rapid, ragged, rattly. It came from the couch. He stepped toward it.

“Kolabati?”

There came a gasp, a cough, and a groan. Someone rose from the couch. Framed in the light from the hall was a wizened, spindly figure with high thin shoulders and a kyphotic spine. It stepped toward him. Jack sensed rather than saw an outstretched hand.

“Give it to me!” The voice was little more than a faint rasp, a snake sliding through dry straw. “Give it back to me!”

But the cadence and pronunciation were unmistakable—it was Kolabati.

Jack tried to speak and found his throat locked. With shaking hands he reached around to the back of his neck and removed the necklace. He then pulled Kusum’s from his pocket.

“Returning it with interest,” he managed to say as he dropped both necklaces into the extended palm, avoiding contact with the skin.

Kolabati either did not realize or did not care that she now possessed both necklaces. She made a slow, tottering turn and hobbled off toward the bedroom. For an instant she was caught in the light from the hall. Jack turned away at the sight of her shrunken body, her stooped shoulders and arthritic joints. Kolabati was an ancient hag. She turned the corner and Jack was alone in the room.

A great lethargy seeped over him. He went over to the chair by the front window that looked out onto the street and sat down.

It’s over. Finally over.