Then Sabrina came out and stood on the path and looked back at the house, and then she came to the driver’s window and said, “She wants to meet you.”

“Does she know who I am?”

“She’s known since 2004.”

Roberta Kean is small and sharp and had one side of her face working slightly slower than the other. Her house smelled of a cat and of Vicks. There were four photographs on the wall in the front room and Sabrina was in two of them.

She looked at me for a long time.

“You’re the foster woman,” she said.