“Does any other family member know about this laboratory test?” he asked.

“Nobody,” I said.

I turned the brass deadbolt, stepped out into the back hallway, and walked past the closed exam rooms toward the alley exit.

The mid-morning air in the alley was crisp, carrying the smell of dry leaves and coal smoke from the nearby brick houses.

I walked around the corner of the building to my sedan, unlocked the driver’s door, and sat inside.

I pulled the folded laboratory report out of my coat pocket and smoothed the three pages flat against the steering wheel.