They waited for Anora in the library, where they had met the last time. There was no one else there. Ted imagined that in another decade or two, rooms like this—devoted to providing a comfortable space to store and peruse hardbound copies of brightly colored dreams—would have disappeared, replaced by reclining couches with virtual reality headsets. Aging baby boomers could be laid out in rows, fed a soy and vegetable soup combined with tranquilizers and stool softeners, and monitored occasionally for continued heartbeat and respiration. He hoped that when he got to that point, they’d have some old noir movies programmed.

But if he wanted to stay alive now, he needed to keep focused. These depressing thoughts came from his growing fear that the forces against them were going to prevail, in which case his best bet would be to emigrate to Tasmania or Uruguay—he’d heard the beaches were great.

Lester sat quietly with the pastry box from Andre’s on his lap.

Anora sidled into the room, and Ted could see she was frightened. No. She was terrified. She seemed to have shrunk inches in every dimension. Her eyes had the thousand-yard stare of the doomed. He let Lester take the lead.

“Come and sit with me. You look like you’ve had a rough couple of days. We’ve all been there. You’re safe with us.” Lester spoke in a gentle voice.

She took a seat across the room and gazed intently at the floor.

“Okay, sit all the way over there. I’m adaptable.” He pulled his chair a few inches closer to her. “There. That’s better.”

She flashed a sideways look at him.

“I guess you were there when they came for Miss Miller.”

No response.

“Was it the lawyer who brought the papers? The same one? The woman?”

She gave a tiny shake of her head.

“No,” Lester said soothingly. “This time it was a man. Two, maybe.”

A slight nod turned into a shudder.

“Yeah. We’ve met those guys, too.”

Another flashing glance.

“Don’t worry. They won’t be back. They like to scare people, that’s all.”

Ted found himself lulled by the quiet compassion and sincerity in Lester’s voice. He wanted to believe it, too.

“They threatened you, didn’t they?” Lester said.

A shrug.

“Said they’d know if you talked to anyone. Did you recognize them? Have they been here before?”

Another quick shake of the head.

Lester carried his chair across the room and sat next to her. He patted the back of her hand. She tightened but did not flinch. “They won’t be back. They may have said it, but it won’t happen. Did they tell you where they’re taking her?”

Another shake of the head—but this time an uncertain one.

“No, they wouldn’t tell you. But maybe you heard them talking?”

She froze.