“What do your parents do for a living?” he asked Clancey as they approached the front door.

She felt small beside him. At the office, she rarely approached him except in the line of duty, and not close up. He was tall and powerfully built and he made her very nervous.

“Mama was a clerk at a law firm,” she said as they walked. “Daddy was a mechanic. He worked downtown for an automobile dealership. Ben, Tad’s father, was a custodian.”

Tad opened the door and motioned them inside. “Why do you refer to them in the past tense?” Colter asked, puzzled.

She drew in a breath, flushing as they walked into the living room with its sparse, dated, ragged furniture and curtains made of old sheets. “Our parents, and my stepfather, are all dead now,” she said after a minute. “There’s just me and Tad left.”

He was shocked. He’d never considered that she might be on her own. What a responsibility! Her little brother had to be in grammar school. Was she supporting both of them by herself? He looked around, scowling at the poverty he recognized.

“How long have you been responsible for the boy?” he asked, facing her.

She spoke to his badge. She was too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Since I was nineteen, when my stepfather, Tad’s father, died,” she replied. “Cal Hollister helped me get officially named Tad’s guardian, so he wouldn’t have to go into a foster home. He’s the only family I’ve got left,” she added softly.

Tad came running back into the awkward silence with a small black stone. He handed it to Colter. “Isn’t it awesome?” he asked enthusiastically. “It’s a tektite. They’re one of the rarest meteorites. Clancey saved up to buy it for me. It’s just small, but I’m really proud of it.”

Colter swallowed, hard, as he studied the stone. He could only imagine how hard it was for the woman beside him to stretch her salary to clothing and shelter and groceries, much less luxuries like meteorites. He hadn’t realized what her home situation was like. He hadn’t wanted to know. He glanced down at her and noted her discomfort. She bit her lip and wouldn’t look at him.

“It’s really nice, son,” Colter said softly, smiling as he handed the stone back to the boy.

“My name’s really Terrance, but Clancey always calls me Tad,” the boy volunteered, smiling back at the big man. “She doesn’t use her real name, either, cause nobody can pronounce it right...”

“Shouldn’t you put that up, before you lose it?” Clancey interrupted, smiling forcibly as she stared at her little brother.

“I guess so,” Tad said, frowning. She looked upset. He didn’t know why.