SHE PUT OFF returning Pete Smith’s call. When they finally met again for lunch, she tried to pick up the check. After all, she was the employer. Smith wouldn’t hear of it. He felt wound up in some foolish way when he was with her. He’d been looking forward to seeing her again and had been strangely determined about calling her even after she canceled several appointments.

“Lunch is on me,” he insisted.

They squabbled over the bill, but in the end Annie gave in. It was nice to have someone be concerned about her, even if it was only in regard to a sandwich and a cup of coffee. She didn’t kid herself into thinking any man could actually be interested in her. They went outside and he still hadn’t said anything, so she knew the news about Elv was bad. He had no choice but to tell her the truth.

Pete Smith drove a Volvo. He liked it because it was dependable, even though it had logged more than a hundred thousand miles. He was a great believer in safety. He believed in keeping his personal life personal, such as it was, or at least he had until recently. But now he had the urge to tell Annie everything about himself. Instead he handed her the address in Astoria. He found out more about the Storys than Annie would have ever imagined. That was what happened once you started digging around.

“She’s with him?” Annie asked.

Pete nodded. “You won’t like the way she’s living.”

Annie thanked him and handed him a check. “I didn’t expect to,” she said.

SHE FOUND THE street in Queens, but first she went to a coffee shop to settle her nerves. The restaurant was grungy, but at least the coffee was hot. The waitress was a young Dominican woman, very businesslike and pretty. Annie left her a five-dollar tip.

Two old woman were sitting on a bench by the bus stop. Annie showed them a photo of Elv. They spoke to each other in Spanish, then one of them patted Annie’s arm. Elv lived across the street, in the brick building, first floor. Annie found the apartment, then had a spike of fear. She hadn’t thought what she might do if that man was there. He had a hold over Elv she didn’t understand. But now Annie had the element of surprise.

She knocked on the door. Nothing. Once more and the door opened wide enough for someone to peek out.

“What do you want?” a woman said.

It was Elv, half in a dreamworld. She had obviously just gotten high. She peered out. The door opened a bit farther, until she realized who it was. “You can’t be here,” she said, stunned. “You can’t just appear.”

The apartment was a mess. She wasn’t at all prepared. She tried to shut the door, but Annie grabbed it and held on. “Elv, please. Just let me in for a minute.”

“You should go away,” Elv said. “It’s been two years. You never even looked for me.”

“I did. I’m here. Just give me five minutes,” Annie pleaded. “That’s all.”

Elv shook her head. “It’s too late. You know it is.” Her side began throbbing. The ache never went away. Sometimes she curled up in Lorry’s arms and pleaded for something to take the pain away.

“Four minutes,” Annie offered. “Less time than it takes to boil an egg.”

They both laughed.

“Oh, so now I’m an egg,” Elv joked.

“Just give me three minutes,” Annie urged. “That’s a hundred and eighty seconds. You can time me if you want.”

Elv opened the door. There were a set of works and some wax paper envelopes on the coffee table. Annie watched as Elv quickly swept it all into a drawer. Elv sat down and lit a cigarette. She felt too much shame to look at her mother. “It’s usually cleaner than this.”

“I think you should come home. I’ve thought it over and it will be easy. Just pack up and come with me.”

Elv laughed, but her voice broke. “That’s why you’re here? Come on, Mom. Tell me how I ruined everyone’s life. Go on. You know you wish I was the one who had died.” She stubbed out her cigarette. “Tell me what a devious bitch I am.”

“Elv,” Annie said. She hadn’t expected to feel this way. “You have to leave him. That’s the first step.”

“You don’t get it. He’s not keeping me here against my will. It’s nothing like that. I don’t want to leave him.”

“I don’t understand—what has that man ever done for you?”

“That man loves me.” Elv’s fierce gaze met her mother’s. “He loves me for who I am.” Now that she really looked at her mother she was taken aback. “When did you become a blonde?” When Annie made some corny remark about being a gay divorcée, Elv’s heart sank. “It’s a wig,” she realized. “You’re wearing a wig.”

“I have leukemia.”

“No, you don’t.” Elv got up from her chair, agitated. She went to perch on the window ledge. She looked like a bird with broken wings. She grabbed another cigarette. She knew she shouldn’t have answered the door. “Did I do this to you?”

“Of course not,” Annie said, startled. “Elv, I have cancer. No one did it to me.”

Elv shook her head. Her eyes were rimmed with tears. She was bad luck. She’d always known that. He’d said that was why he was doing the things he did to her when he took her away in his car. He could tell she was bad and had to be punished. Elv was certain that Claire wasn’t bad, and that was why Claire was the one who needed to escape.