Chapter 24: The Door

I read one in the doorway, with the guards waiting and the whole corridor listening.

It was my request from the first year, filed after her first visit home.

On the back, in blue ink, Lorna had written: I refused because I was six months along.

Below that she had added: I could not let you see me.

I read it twice.

Then I closed the folder and held it against my coat.

"Saturdays stay," I said.

She looked up.

"Ten to two, in public, with my father or my mother in sight. Nothing else changes."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me. Keep them."

She nodded, and the guards walked her out past her old neighbours, and she did not look at anyone.

In the spring, Sam started school.

He stood in my hall at seven in the morning in a new coat.

His backpack was nearly as big as he was, and the dog sat on his foot.

We had found the dog at a shelter in January, a huge shaggy mutt with ears that never agreed.

Sam picked him from the whole row.

He announced that the dog was exactly the right amount of stupid.

"Is it a good drawing?" he asked now.

He held up a sheet of paper in his left hand.

It showed a tall man, a woman with a dark ponytail, and a small boy.

Behind them stood a big green door with a yellow handle.

"It's the best one you've done," I said.

"The door's open."

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