Chapter 10: Thirty-One Hours

The quarters clanked down inside the phone.

A truck went by on the street behind me, loud.

"I can't tell you how I knew," I said.

"Roxie."

"I can't, Leni. Not on a pay phone. Maybe not ever."

She breathed hard into the receiver.

"He found your letter on the floor of the shop. He came up the Hill with it in his fist and walked into the kitchen."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing. He read it out loud. Get tested anywhere but Cranston. Ask your stepmother what she paid."

She sniffed.

"Then he told Rhonda he'd already been tested in Boston and he was giving me his."

"What did she say?"

"Nothing. She dropped a bowl of escarole. It's still the best day I've had all year."

I laughed, and it hurt.

"When?"

"Thursday. Mass General. Seven in the morning."

"That's two days."

"I know it's two days, I can count." Her voice cracked. "Come home. Please. Come home and hold my hair like you promised."

A recorded voice cut in and asked for more money.

I didn't have any more quarters.

"I love you," I said.

The line went dead in the middle of her answer.

I stood with the receiver against my forehead until a woman with a basket of laundry asked if I was done.

That night I typed one line to the Ferryman.

Did you know he was the match?

The answer took a long time.

Yes.

Since when?

Since before you left.

I stared at it.

Then why didn't you tell me?

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