“Is that him?

Is that the boy?” “Yes,” I said, and without quite deciding to, I stepped slightly between her and my grandson, an old animal instinct, positioning my body so that whatever was about to happen, it would happen to me and not to him.

“Yes, that’s Noah.

And he’s going to be here in about two minutes, so whatever this is, Sarah, whatever you came here to tell me, you need to tell me now, before my grandson gets close enough to hear it.”

Something about the sight of the child seemed to break the last of her hesitation, or perhaps to make the stakes suddenly real to her, because her careful reserve cracked, and the words began to come faster, lower, more urgent.