“Why?”

“Because I wanted you to live your life. To be…happy. I heard Caleb call you ‘Dad.’ I’m glad, for both of you.”

“He’s married, you know. His wife is Pim.”

“Pim,” Amy repeated, and smiled.

“They have a son, too. They named him Theo.”

She gently squeezed his hand. “So there’s a life, right there. What else made you happy? I want to know.”

You did, he thought. You made me happy. I’ve been with you every night since you were gone. I’ve lived a whole life with you, Amy. But he could not find the words to say this.

“That night in Iowa,” he began. “That was real, wasn’t it?”

“I’m not sure I even know what real is anymore.”

“I mean, it happened. It wasn’t a dream.”

Amy nodded. “Yes.”

“Why did you come to me?”

Amy’s eyes darted away, as if the memory pained her. “I’m not sure I know. I was confused, the change had happened so fast. Probably I shouldn’t have done it. I was so ashamed of what I was.”

“Why would you think that?”

“I was a monster, Peter.”

“Not to me.”

Their eyes met and held; her hand was warm, though not with fever; it was the warmth of life. A thousand times he’d held it, and yet this was also the first.

“Is Alicia all right?” Amy asked.

“Oh, she’s tougher than that. What do you want me to do with her?”

“I don’t think that’s my decision.”

“It’s not. But I still need to know what you think.”

“This isn’t simple for her. She’s been with him a long time. I think there’s a lot she’s not telling us.”

“Like what?”

Amy thought for a moment, then shook her head. “I can’t tell. She’s very sad. But it’s like there’s a locked box inside her. I can’t get past it.” Their eyes met again. “She needs you to trust her, Peter. I’m one side of her; Fanning’s the other. Between us, there’s you. It’s you she’s really here to see. She needs to know who she is. Not just who she is: what she is.”

“So what is she?”

“What she always was. Part of this, part of us. You’re her family, Peter. You have been from the start. She needs to know that you still are.”

Peter felt the truth of her words. But knowing something was not the same thing as believing it. That was the hell of it, he thought.

“You’re not going with her,” he said. “I can’t allow it.”

“You may not have a choice about that. Alicia’s right, the city can’t stand indefinitely. Sooner or later, I’ll have to face him.”

“I don’t care. I lost you once. I’m not doing it again.”

Footsteps in the hall: Peter turned as Caleb appeared in the doorway, Pim behind him. For a moment, Peter’s son appeared dumbstruck. A warm light switched on in his eyes.

“It’s really you,” he said.

Amy smiled. “Caleb, I believe I would like to hug you.”

Peter stepped back; Amy rose on her elbows as Caleb leaned over the bed and the two embraced. When at last they parted, they still held one another by the elbows, each beaming into the other’s happy face. Peter understood what he was seeing: the deep bond that Amy and his son shared, forged in the days before Iowa, when Amy had looked after him in the orphanage.

“You look so grown-up,” Caleb said, laughing.

Amy laughed, too. “So do you.”

Caleb turned to his wife, speaking and signing simultaneously. “Amy, this is Pim, my wife. Pim, Amy.”

How do you do, Pim? Amy signed.

Very well, thank you, Pim replied.

Amy’s hands were moving with expert speed. It’s a beautiful name. You’re just as I pictured you.

You, too.

Caleb stared at the two women; only then did it occur to Peter that the exchange he had just witnessed was, technically, impossible.

“Amy,” Caleb said, “how did you do that?”

She frowned at her splayed fingers. “Now, I don’t think I know. I suppose the sisters must have taught me.”

“None of them can sign.”

She dropped her hands to her lap and looked up. “Well, somebody must have. How else could I have done it?”

More footsteps; an atmosphere of official briskness accompanied Apgar into the bedroom.

“Mr. President, I’m sorry for the interruption, but I thought I might find you here.” His chin lifted toward the bed. “Pardon me, ma’am. How are you feeling?”

Amy was sitting up now, hands folded in her lap. “Much better, thank you, General.”

He narrowed his attention on Caleb. “Lieutenant, aren’t you supposed to be in your rack?”

“I wasn’t tired, sir.”

“That wasn’t what I asked. And don’t look at your father—he’s not interested.”

Caleb took Amy’s hand and gave it a final squeeze. “Get better, okay?”

“Now, Mr. Jaxon.”

Caleb exchanged a hasty, unreadable sign with Pim and exited the room. “If you’re done here,” Apgar said, “it’s time. People will be waiting.”

Peter turned to Amy. “I better go.”

Amy appeared not to have heard him; her eyes were fixed on Pim’s. The seconds stretched as the two women regarded each other with a crackling intensity, as if engaged in a private, inaudible conversation.