At minute fifty-two Elias climbed into Ruth's lap without asking, the way children do when they have decided a person is safe, and Ruth's face crumpled so quietly that only Aaliyah saw it. Aaliyah looked away at the window, at the Portland rain starting up again, and let her son stay where he had chosen to stay.
When the hour ended Ruth stood, set Elias gently on his feet, and thanked Evelyn in a voice that shook only a little. At the door she looked at Aaliyah and said, "Same time in two weeks?"
Aaliyah nodded. "Same time."
After Ruth left, Evelyn poured two cups of coffee and set one in front of Aaliyah.
"She's scared," Evelyn said.
"Of the disease?"
"Of you. Of me. Of waking up one morning and not knowing that boy's name." Evelyn wrapped her hands around her cup. "I am not telling you to forgive her. Forgiveness is a private country. I'm telling you that the woman who just left is not the woman who took your deposit money. She may become someone else again before the end, someone who doesn't know what she did or what she fixed. You get to decide how much of the in-between you can stand."