“Oh, Leni, I’m so sorry. She was…”

“Yeah,” Leni said softly, trying right then not to think of all the ways her mother was special, or how much her loss hurt. It hadn’t been long enough yet; Leni hadn’t learned how to talk about her pain. Instead, Leni stepped sideways, so he could see the boy sitting behind her. “MJ—Matthew Junior—this is your Grandpa Tom.”

Mr. Walker had always seemed impossibly, superhumanly strong, but now, with one look at the boy who looked so much like his son, she saw how it cracked him open. “Oh, my God…”

MJ popped to his feet. He was clutching a red plastic dinosaur in one fist.

Mr. Walker squatted down to be eye to eye with his grandson through the cell bars. “You remind me of another boy with blond hair.”

Hold it together.

“I’m MJ!” he said with an oversized smile, jumping up. “You wanna see my dinosaurs?” MJ didn’t wait for an answer, started pulling his plastic dinosaurs from his pockets, producing each new one with flourish.

Over the sound of the growling (that’s what T. rex sounds like, grrr), Mr. Walker said, “He looks just like his dad.”

“Yeah.” The past muscled its way into the present. Leni looked down at her feet, unable to meet Mr. Walker’s gaze.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she said. “We had to leave fast and I didn’t want to get you into trouble. I didn’t want you to have to lie for us, and I couldn’t let Mama go to prison…”

“Ah, Leni,” Mr. Walker said at last, rising to his feet. “You always had too many worries for a girl your age. So why are you in here if your mom killed Ernt? Curt should give you both a freaking medal, not lock you up.”

Leni could have crumpled at the kindness she saw in his eyes. How could he not be angry? She’d abandoned his brain-damaged son, lied for years by her absence, and stolen years of his grandson’s life from him. And now she had to ask him for another favor. “I helped her after the fact. You know … to get rid of the … body.”

He leaned in. “You admitted that? Why?”

“The chief outsmarted me. Anyway, maybe it’s the way it has to be. I needed to tell the truth. I’m tired of pretending to be someone else. I’ll figure it all out. My grandfather is a lawyer. I just … need to know MJ is safe until I’m … out. Will you take him?”

“Of course I will, but—”

“And I know I have no right to ask you this, but please don’t tell Matthew about his son. I need to do that myself.”

“Matthew won’t—”

“I know he won’t understand, but I need to be the one to tell him he has a son. It’s the right thing to do.”

She heard the jangle of keys, footsteps. Chief Ward was coming this way. He eased in past Mr. Walker and unlocked the cell door. “It’s time,” he said.

Leni bent down to her son. “Okay, baby boy,” she said, trying to be strong. “You need to go with your grandpa now. Mommy has … things to do.” She gave him a little shove, so that he was outside the cell.

“Mommy? I don’t wanna go.”

Leni looked to Mr. Walker for help. She didn’t know how to do this.

Mr. Walker laid his big hand on MJ’s little shoulder. “It’s a pink year, MJ.” His voice was as unsteady as Leni felt. “That means the humpies are clogging the rivers. We could fish the Anchor River today. Chances are good you’ll catch the biggest fish of your life.”

“Can my mommy and daddy come?” MJ asked. “Oh. Wait. My daddy can’t move. I forgot.”

“You know about your dad?” Mr. Walker said.

MJ nodded. “Mommy loves him more than the moon and the stars. Like she loves me. But he has a broke head.”

“The boy needs to leave now,” Chief Ward said.

MJ looked at Leni. “So I’m going fishing with my new grandpa, right? Then we’ll play jail more?”

“Uh-huh,” Leni said, doing her best not to cry. She had taught her son to trust her, always, and to believe her, and so he did. She reached out and pulled him into a hug, imprinting the feel of him. Of all the courage she had expended so far—coming home, telling the truth, calling for Tom Walker—it took the greatest toll on her to simply let her son go. She managed a shaky smile. “’Bye, MJ. Be good for Grandpa. Try not to break anything.”

“’Bye, Mommy.”

Mr. Walker swept MJ into the air, planted him on his shoulders. MJ’s high-pitched giggle rang out.

“Look, Mommy, look! I’m a giant!”

“She doesn’t deserve to be here,” Mr. Walker said to Chief Ward, who shrugged. “You always were a by-the-book prick.”

“Insulting me. Good plan. Tell it to the court, Tom. We’ll arraign her quickly. Three o’clock. Judge wants to be out on the river by four.”

“I’m sorry, Leni,” Mr. Walker said.

She heard the gentleness in his voice and knew that the man was ready to offer comfort. Leni didn’t dare reach out. Any kindness now could break what little control she had. “Take care of him, Tom. He’s my world.”

She stared up at her son on his grandfather’s shoulders, and she thought, Please let this be okay, and then the cell door clanged shut.

The rest of the day passed slowly, in unfamiliar sights and sounds, in a phone jangling, in doors opening and closing, in lunch orders being taken and delivered, in boots stomping across the station floor.

Leni sat on the hard concrete bench, slumped back against the cold wall. Sunlight streamed through the small cell window, heated everything. She pushed the damp hair out of her eyes. She’d spent the last two hours crying and sweating and muttering curses. Everywhere she could be damp, she was. Her mouth tasted like the inside of an old shoe. She went to the small, lidless toilet, pulled down her pants, and sat down, praying no one saw her.

How was MJ? She hoped Mr. Walker had found the stuffed orca (inexplicably named Bob) in his suitcase. MJ wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight without him. How had Leni forgotten to tell Mr. Walker that?

The station door opened. A man walked in. He had hunched shoulders and hair so tangled it looked like he’d been electrified. He wore hip waders and carried a scuffed green nylon briefcase. “Hey, Marci,” he said in a booming voice. Leni returned to her place on the bench.