“What was it like growing up here?” I asked. “Because I’m not gonna lie, I’ve seen exactly six other Black folks since we got here, and you and your mom are two of them.”

“The fact that you’ve seen all of us already is pretty much the only thing you need to know.” He shook his head. “Nah, but for real, it’s okay. People are cool for the most part. The ones who live here all the time keep to themselves. The tourists are annoying, especially in the summer, but hey—what’re you gonna do?”

We drove past a stately house with a sign that read Beekman Arms Inn. “Everything looks like something out of a history book. How old is this place?”

“Pretty old,” he said. “The town, I mean. And the people here are old as hell, too. I think the average age gotta be like sixty-five.”

“Serious?”

“Probably.” Karter grinned. “There’s a bingo hall off Market Street that’s packed every weekend.”

“So that’s where the party is on Saturday nights? Good to know.”

“If by ‘night’ you mean five thirty in the afternoon, then yeah.” Karter made a loop and headed back toward the house. “The hospital’s this way.”

By the time we got there, it was midafternoon. Karter parked the truck and turned to me. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

“Sure, but I don’t even know if they’ll let me see him.”

“I guess we’ll find out, right?”

We walked inside and a woman in a floral-print button-down, the collar neatly pressed, eyed us suspiciously from her perch behind the information desk. “Can I help you? You look lost.”

“I’m looking for a patient,” I said. “His name’s Alec Morris. He came in by ambulance yesterday.”

She clicked around on her keyboard and read from the monitor in front of her. “He’s in room 316. It looks like he’s under guard, so you won’t be able to see him without a police escort.”

I sighed. That made sense. Dr. Grant said they were keeping an eye on him.

“Thanks,” I said, feeling a stab of disappointment.

I turned to walk toward the door, but Karter hooked his arm under mine and pulled me in the direction of the elevator. “We should go pick up your meds while we’re here,” he said.

“Huh?”

He gently squeezed my hand.

“Oh,” I said, picking up on the ruse. “Good idea.”

Karter smiled at the receptionist as we got into the elevator. As soon as the door closed he let go of my arm.

“They’re not gonna let us see him.”

He thought for a moment. “I can cause a distraction and you can sneak in.”

“Wait. What?”

“I’ll slip and fall or something,” he said with a smirk. “I might not have to pretend. I have two left feet.”