Millie watched him from the counter and understood that the man who had walked out an hour earlier had not returned unchanged. Grim's face was as closed as ever, but his hands were open at his sides, and he had stopped looking at the second plate. For the moment there were three living people holding one another in the center of the diner, and that was enough. Outside, the night had other plans, but inside those few minutes belonged entirely to Sarah and her children.
The reunion lasted a little more than four minutes before Grim asked Sarah to sit down. He did not interrupt the embrace immediately, though every instinct told him that danger often followed close behind relief. He allowed the children time to feel their mother's arms around them and Sarah time to believe that she had reached them. Then he moved closer, kept his voice low, and told her there were decisions to make before the night grew any older.
"Sarah," he said. "I know you want to stay right there. I know these kids need you to. But Clay knows you've left, and somebody with a badge has been watching his road."
Sarah lifted her head, her face pale beneath the bruising. "He'll come here," she said. "If he knows they're here, he will."
"Then we won't give him the chance to find you here," Grim answered. He looked at Millie. "Where can they go that Clay won't think to look? Not a motel. Not one of the shelters Sarah has already contacted."
Millie had been considering the question since Grim's first phone call, and the answer was waiting behind her teeth. "My sister, Linda, lives in Laughlin," she said. "She has a spare bedroom and a temperament that makes mine look accommodating."
Grim almost smiled. "Does she know Mercer?" "She doesn't know anybody connected to Mercer," Millie said.
"She's been across the state line thirty years and rarely sets foot over here. She runs a small sewing business from home, keeps to herself, and answers exactly as many questions as she feels like answering." Millie looked at Sarah. "Honey, if you need somewhere quiet while we find real help, she'll take you."
"I can't put your sister in danger," Sarah said immediately. Her voice had the strained, apologetic quality of someone who had spent years being trained to think of her own survival as an inconvenience to other people. "I can't even pay for gas. I don't have anything with me."
Millie shook her head. "Neither does a baby when it's born, and nobody sends it a bill before picking it up. We can discuss money another year."
Sarah tried to answer and found her throat would not cooperate. Ethan moved closer to her side, alert again, as though her difficulty speaking meant he needed to take over. Grim saw the exchange and intervened before the boy could resume the burden he had carried all day. "You did your job getting Rosie out," he told Ethan. "Your next job is to stay with your mother and let grown people do theirs."