"He was a child in an alley."
"I was a stranger bleeding in the snow."
"And he gave me his coat."
Maggie's voice stayed soft.
"And you came here tonight because he knows too much."
"Because he's a loose end."
Tank began crying.
No sound.
His shoulders shook.
Tears disappeared into his beard.
Maggie watched.
She did not look away.
"Roland," she said, "Daniel didn't come back when I begged him."
"Mason didn't come back when you begged him."
"This boy came back."
"He came back tonight."
"He came back because we refused to let him go."
"And I'm asking you, Roland."
"I'm asking you as the woman whose son you sang to."
"Do not take him."
For a long time, Tank did not move.
Then, very slowly, he reached inside his coat.
Behind the door, Cyrus Boyd went completely still.
Tank's hand came out holding the pistol.
He placed it carefully on the bedside table.
He pushed it away from himself.
Toward Maggie.
Then he covered his face with both hands.
He wept.
The sound that came from him was the sound of a man who had carried something for three years that had been killing him from the inside and had finally set it down.
Cyrus stepped from behind the door.
He picked up the weapon.
He placed one hand on Tank's shoulder.
He led him from the room.
Tank did not resist.
He walked like a man who had been carrying a stone for three years and had finally been allowed to put it down.
They went along a corridor Cyrus had cleared.
Down a back stairwell.
Into the parking garage.
Beau Whitlock waited beside an SUV.
The two old friends looked at each other.
Twenty-six years stood between them.
A wedding.
A christening.
A funeral.
Christmas dinners.
Fourth of July picnics.
Long rides.
Long roads.
And now a black pickup truck on an overpass.
A woman bleeding in the snow.
A child without a coat.
Beau did not raise his voice.
"You're going to write down everything."
"Everyone you paid."
"Every dollar."
"Every meeting."
"You're going to give it to Cyrus tonight."
"Then tomorrow morning, you're going to surrender yourself to federal authorities."
"You're going to answer for what you did."
"I'm not handling this inside the brotherhood."
"Not after 26 years."
"Not after Mason."
Tank closed his eyes.
"Beau."
"Don't."
"Whatever you're going to say, don't."