The plane touched down on Long Island around four in the morning. I looked out the window. The tarmac was reassuringly desolate. As I walked down the steps, I got my first whiff of New York air— filthy and sweet. Though I had loved Mexico and though I wished I were returning under better circumstances, I was happy to be restored to my city. It was freezing, by the way. I was still wearing the clothes I’d worn to visit the factories in Oaxaca, where it had been 72°.

A solitary car, black with tinted windows, was parked in the lot. On the driver’s side, the window was rolled down about three inches, and I could see Simon Green sleeping. I tapped on the glass, and Simon started. “Annie, come in, come in,” he said as he popped the locks.

“No cops,” I pointed out once I was inside.

“We were lucky.” He put the key in the ignition. “I thought I’d take you back to my apartment in Brooklyn. Imogen’s murder has attracted a fair amount of attention as I’m sure you can imagine, and there are too many people around Mr. Kipling’s apartment and yours.”

“I need to see Natty tonight,” I insisted. “If she’s at Mr. Kipling’s, that’s where I need to be.” “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea, Annie. Like I said—”

I interrupted him. “Leo’s dead, Simon, and I don’t want my sister to have to hear it from anyone but me.”

For a moment, Simon was speechless. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” He cleared his throat. “I honestly don’t know what to say.” Simon shook his head. “Do you think Yuji Ono was involved?”

“I don’t know. He said he wasn’t but … It doesn’t matter right now. I need to get to Natty.” “Listen, Annie, you’ve experienced a very great loss. You’re tired and you’re overwhelmed, for completely understandable reasons, so please take my advice here. It will be much better for you and for Natty if you aren’t apprehended by the police tonight. We should negotiate your surrender if that’s something deemed necessary. Let me take you back to my apartment—no one will look for you there —and I promise to bring Natty to you as soon as it can safely be arranged. I don’t want to compromise either of you.”

I nodded my consent.

We didn’t speak for the rest of the drive though I could tell Simon Green wanted to. “There’s blood on you,” he commented as we drove into Brooklyn. I looked at my sleeve: the blood was either Theo’s or the masked man’s. It had been that kind of day.

Simon’s apartment was on the sixth floor of a walk-up with squeaky, steep stairs. After three flights, I wanted to give up. Sometimes, it’s these little acts that seem the most unbearable. “I’ll sleep on the landing,” I told him.

“Come on, Anya.” Simon pushed me onward.

Finally, we were in his apartment. It was large for a city place, the lone residence on the floor, but there was only one room. The ceilings were vaulted as the room was just below the roof. Simon Green lived in an attic. He told me that I could have his bed, and he would sleep on the sofa

“Annie, I’m going to drive back to Mr. Kipling’s now. Can I get you anything?” He stifled a yawn, then he took off his glasses and wiped them.

“No, Simon, I’m fine. I’m—”

(I told you that I would never cry again, and while I certainly believed that at the time, it turned out this was overly optimistic on my part.)

I fell to my knees and I could feel them bruise as they hit the wooden floor. “Leo,” I sobbed. “Leo, Leo, Leo. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…”

Simon Green put his hand awkwardly on my shoulder. It was not a particularly comforting gesture yet I felt grateful for the weight of him.

I had started to hyperventilate and I felt like I might choke. Simon helped me out of my bloody clothes like I was a toddler, and then he loaned me a T-shirt and helped me into bed.

I told him that I wanted to die.

“No, you don’t.”

“Everywhere I go, there is violence. And I can’t escape because I bring violence with me. And I don’t want to live in a world where my brother is dead.”

“There are other people who love you and count on you, Anya. Think of Natty.”

“I do think of her. All the time. And what I think is that maybe she’d be better off without me.” Simon Green put his arms around me. I had never been so close to him before, and he smelled of peppermints. He shook his head. “She wouldn’t. Trust me, she wouldn’t. Natty only gets to be Natty because you have to be Anya.” Simon gently extricated himself from me. “Get some sleep. By the time I’m back, I’ll have Natty with me, okay?”

I heard the door close and lock twice, and then I did fall asleep.

When I awoke, a white cat with a black spot on its side was looking at me. The cat was in my sister’s arms. “Did you know that Simon has a cat?” Natty asked.

I had been too distracted to notice, though now that she mentioned it, his place did smell faintly of litter.

“She’s a fighter,” Simon Green reported. “She likes to go out during the night.”

I looked at Natty. Her eyes were red from crying, and she looked even older and taller than the last time I had seen her. Natty set the cat down, and I stood and fiercely pulled my sister toward me. Her head banged against mine. That head was higher than I was used to it being.

“I knew you’d come,” Natty said. “I knew it.”

In order to give us some privacy, Simon Green said he was going on a walk.

“It was awful, Annie. We were on the street outside the apartment, and a man in a mask came out of nowhere, and Imogen tried to give him her purse. ‘Take it,’ she said. ‘Just take it. I only have twenty-two dollars.’ He grabbed the purse, and for a second, we thought he was going to leave, but then he threw it to the ground. All of Imogen’s things spilled out—her books and her diary and everything! I remember thinking that it would be impossible to get everything back in the bag. The man started to point his gun at my head, but Imogen jumped in front of me. And this was when she got shot, but I didn’t know where. It was weird because the shot was so close I didn’t know if I’d been shot and I fell to the ground, too. I guess it was the sound of the bullet.”

“You were smart to do that,” I told her. “They thought they’d gotten you and so they left.” “What do you mean ‘gotten me’?”

She didn’t know that the attacks had been meant to kill the three of us. She didn’t know about Leo. I told her what had happened to me in Mexico and then I told her about Leo.

She did not cry. She stayed completely still.

“Natty?” I moved to touch her arm, but she pulled away.

I looked at her face. She seemed thoughtful, not devastated. “If you don’t trust Yuji Ono, how do you know for sure that Leo’s dead?” she asked

“I know, Natty. Yuji Ono would have no reason to tell us that Leo was dead if he wasn’t.”

“I don’t believe it! If you haven’t seen the body, you can’t know that someone’s dead for sure!” The pitch of Natty’s voice had grown impossibly high. She sounded squeaky, hysterical. “I want to go to Japan. I want to see for myself!”

Simon Green returned from his walk. It had begun to rain, and his hair was damp. “Think about it, Natty,” he said gently. “You and Anya were both attacked on the same night. You and Anya were both lucky to escape. Your brother wasn’t.”

Natty turned to me. “This is your fault! You sent him to Japan. If he was here, he might be in jail but at least he would be alive. He would be alive!”

Natty ran into Simon Green’s bathroom and slammed the door behind her. “It doesn’t lock,” Simon Green whispered to me.

I went in after her. She was standing in the tub with her back to me. “I feel stupid,” she said tearfully. “But I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Natty, I did send Leo to Japan. It’s true. If that was a mistake, it was also the best I could do at the time. We will go to Japan to bury Leo but we can’t go right now. It’s too dangerous and I have things to arrange here.”