Chapter 15: Through the Glass

The county jail kept its visiting room at sixty-four degrees.

My father had called ahead, and a guard met us at the door with a space heater and a blanket.

"Ten minutes," the guard said. "Through the glass."

My father stayed in the corridor with his hand on the wall.

I wheeled up to the window in my heated vest and picked up the phone.

Odette came in on the other side.

She wore a grey jumpsuit that was too big for her. Her blonde hair was flat and unwashed, and she had no camel coat.

She sat down and looked at me for a long moment.

"You came," she said, softly.

"I came to see your face."

"Is it what you wanted?"

"Not yet."

Her mouth twitched. For one second I saw a smile under the soft voice.

"I'm cold in here," she said. "I'm always cold. Do you know that's the only true thing I've ever said to him?"

"Why did you ask for me?"

"Because I'm done being the only one who knows."

She put her hands flat on the glass. They were thin and white, and she was shivering.

"Kellan was dying," she said. "I was eighteen and I had loved him since I was six."

"I came up the drive that night to see him one last time. Hester was in the hall, crying, and I thought, she'll leave him alone with the nurse."

"So you made her leave."

"I told her about the herb. I'd read about it in a book." She shrugged. "It was a small lie. I told myself it was small."

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