Was she with them? No, Sara would have detected it. A message under the plate, an exchange of reassuring glances. Something. But the girl—pale, nervous, whose name Sara didn’t know and was never to learn—came and went in silence.
Lila had taken to her bed. All day long and into the night she tossed and turned. She roused only to bathe but shooed Sara’s offers of help away. Her voice was drained; even speaking seemed to require all her energy. “Leave me be,” she said.
Sara was alone, cut off. The system was collapsing.
She passed the days with Kate, but this time together felt different, final. The child could sense it too, as children did. What was the source of their powers of perception? Everything was colored by a mood of pointlessness. They played the usual games, not caring who won. Sara read the usual stories, but the child listened only vaguely. Nothing helped. The end of their time was approaching. The days were long and then too short. At night they slept together on the sofa, melded as one. The soft warmth of the girl’s body was torment. Sara lay awake for hours listening to her quiet breathing, drinking in her scent. What are you dreaming? she wondered. Are you dreaming of goodbye, as I am? Will we see each other again? Is there such a place? Holding Kate close, she remembered Nina’s words.
On the third morning, Sara took Kate outside. The cold was biting, but she welcomed it. She pushed Kate on the swing for a time, then rode the teeter-totter with her. Kate had said nothing about Lila since the night Guilder had beaten her. Whatever cord had connected them had been severed. When the cold grew too fierce, they headed back inside. Just as they reached the door, Kate stopped.
“Somebody gave this to me,” she said, and showed Sara. In her hand was a pink plastic egg.
“Who did?”
“I don’t know. She was over there.”
Sara followed the girl’s gesture across the courtyard. There was no one. Kate shrugged. “She was there a second ago.”
For just a few minutes, not more than five, Sara had let Kate wander off by herself.
“She told me to give it to you,” Kate said, and held the egg out to her.
The woman had to be Nina, of course. Sara tucked the egg into the pocket of her robe. Her body felt numb. When Jenny had disappeared, she had allowed herself the faint hope that this burden would pass from her. How foolish she’d been.
“Let’s keep this a secret—would that be okay?”
“She said the same thing.” Then, her face brightening, Kate asked, “Is it a secret message?”
Sara did her best to smile. “That’s it exactly.”
She didn’t open the egg right away; she was afraid to. When they returned to the dark apartment, they found Lila lighting the candelabras with a long match. Her face was drained of color, her hair brittle and askew. She called them over to the sofa and held out a book.
“Would you read to me?”
“I haven’t heard this one in ages,” Lila sighed.
Sara was made to read for hours. Part of her mind registered the story as interesting, but the rest was in a fog. The language was difficult, and she often lost her place. Kate’s attention waned; eventually she fell asleep. It seemed entirely possible that Lila was going to make Sara read the entire book.
“I need to go to the bathroom,” Sara said finally. “I’ll be right back.”
Before Lila could say anything, she stepped briskly to the lavatory and closed the door. She pulled up her robe and sat on the toilet and withdrew the egg from her pocket. Her heart was beating wildly. A flicker of hesitation; then she opened it and unfolded the paper.
She had returned the paper to the egg when there came an urgent rapping on the door. “Dani! I need you!”
“Just a second!”
The handle jiggled. Had she locked it?
“I have the key, Dani! Please, open the door!”
Sara lurched off the toilet, sending the egg skittering across the floor. Shit! The key was turning in the lock. She had just enough time to shove the egg into the bottom drawer of the vanity before turning to see Lila standing in the open doorway.
“All done,” she said. She heaved a smile onto her face. “What do you need, Lila?”
The woman’s face blanched with confusion. “I don’t know. I thought you’d gone somewhere. You scared me.”
“Well, I did. I went to the bathroom.”
“I didn’t hear the toilet flush.”
“Oh. Sorry.” Sara turned and pulled the chain. “That was rude of me.”
For a moment Lila said nothing. She seemed completely disconnected from reality.
“Could you do something for me? A favor.”
Sara nodded.
“I would like some… chocolate.”
“Chocolate.” What was chocolate? “Where would I get that?”
Lila stared incredulously. “The kitchen, of course.”
“Right. I guess that was obvious.” Maybe someone in the kitchen would know what Lila was talking about. Sara didn’t think it would be a good idea to come back empty-handed. “I’ll go right away.”
Lila’s face relaxed. “Anything would be fine. Even a cup of cocoa.” Her eyes unfocused; she gave a little sigh. “I always loved a cup of cocoa on a winter afternoon.”
Sara stepped from the apartment. How much had Lila seen? Why hadn’t Sara thought to flush the note down the toilet? Had she closed the drawer? She replayed the moment in the mind; yes, she had. There was no reason for Lila to go looking there, though to be safe, Sara would have to retrieve it before the serving girl returned.
The kitchen was located on the far side of the building; she’d have to cross the atrium, which was always full of cols. Still riding a wave of adrenaline, she aimed her eyes at the floor and made her way down the hall.
As she entered the lobby she became aware of a commotion. An attendant was being escorted by two guards, her pitiful cries amplified by the room’s expansive acoustics.
“Don’t! Please, I’m begging you! I’ll do better! Don’t take me to the basement!”
The woman was Karen Molyneau.
“Sara! Help me!”
Sara halted in her tracks. How could Karen see her face? And then she realized that she’d made the one fatal error, the one thing she could never forget to do. She’d neglected to pull down her veil.
“Sara, please!”
“Stop.”
The command had come from a third man. As he stepped forward, Sara recognized him immediately. The round belly, the fogged glasses riding the tip of his nose, the winglike eyebrows. The third man was Dr. Verlyn.
“You.” He was examining her face intently. “What’s your name?”
Her mouth had gone dry. “Dani, sir.”
“She called you Sara.”
“I’m sure she’s mistaken.” Her eyes flicked reflexively toward the exit. “I’m Dani.”
“Sara, why are you doing this?” Karen was wriggling like a fish in a net. “Tell them I’m no insurgent!”
Verlyn’s gaze hardened. The corners of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Oh, I remember you. The pretty one. I never forget a face, not one like yours.”
Sara bolted for the door. Three strides and she went blasting through it. She tore down the steps, into the
