Ethan described the moment without crying. Sarah had stood beside his bed with a backpack in one hand and nine dollars folded in the other. Her left cheek had been swollen, and the sleeve of her shirt had covered most of one hand. She had told him to take Rosie, to keep to the service road until the highway was busy enough that their footprints would be lost among other movement, and to accept a ride only if he felt safe. She had also told him that being afraid did not mean he had made a wrong decision.
"She kept looking at the bedroom door," Ethan said. "Like she thought he would wake up." He pulled Rosie a little closer as she leaned against him.
"She said she loved us, and she said that if anybody asked, we were supposed to tell the truth. But not to anybody Clay knew." His gaze returned to Grim. "I don't know who he knows here."
"That was smart of her," Grim said. "Has Clay got people watching the roads?" Ethan nodded.
"Sometimes one truck near the mailbox road, sometimes a deputy by the station turnoff. Mom says they tell him if she leaves." He glanced at Millie. "When she called a shelter last year, somebody there told him. He knew before she got there."
Rosie had been quiet throughout the exchange. Now she set down her spoon and looked directly at Grim. "Is Mama going to be okay?" she whispered. Ethan closed his eyes for a fraction of a second, the way someone does when a question has finally been spoken that he has been working all day not to ask. Millie looked at the girl and knew that any easy reassurance would be a betrayal.
For several seconds Grim said nothing. In his mind he saw another child, a boy older than Ethan, standing in the doorway of a house in Tucson with a duffel bag and an expression that had already moved beyond argument. He heard himself saying, in a younger and crueler voice, that anyone who left could stay gone. Twenty-three years had passed since that morning. The sentence still lived inside him without growing quieter.
Grim looked at Rosie. "I'm going to find out," he said. "I can't tell you something I don't know. But I can tell you I'm going to find out where your mama is and what she needs."
Rosie considered the answer with solemn seriousness. She nodded once, as if he had met a standard that other adults often missed. Ethan stared at him longer, searching his face for uncertainty.
Grim reached for his vest and stood. The movement brought the room to attention again, though this time the attention had changed.
He looked at Millie and said, "Keep them warm. Keep them inside. If anybody asks, you haven't seen them until I say different." Millie held his gaze. "I'll take care of them," she answered, and Grim believed her.
He turned back to Ethan. "Your mother told you not to go back. That instruction still stands. You and your sister stay right here until Millie says otherwise, understand?"