“Who gave you that?” I asked.
The girl pulled the blanket higher around the baby. Her fingers trembled, but she did not move away.
“You know him,” she whispered.
“Who?”
She glanced toward the corner of the street.
No one stood there now. Only a newspaper box, a bus shelter, and a line of parked cars shining beneath the gray afternoon sky.
“He said you’d come.”
Frank stepped out of the sedan behind me. “Nicholas, perhaps we should get the child indoors.”
The girl flinched at the sound of his voice.
That reaction unsettled me more than anything else.
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