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“It’s a she. Her name’s Kiyoko. And she’ll find you. Just stay inside the terminal. She’ll give you money and the keys to a car and your new apartment. You have my number if you need it.” Theresa nods. She licks her lips, glances down the hallway, then looks back at me. Her eyes fierce, she whispers vehemently, “God bless you.” Too late. The devil already did. “Remember, you can never contact anyone you know again. Your life here is over. Theresa Davis and her daughter no longer exist.” She nods, but I’m already turning away. I walk silently down the hallway, stop at the closed door, and remove my gloves from my briefcase. Then I open the door and walk inside. A sweating man in boxers is propped up on pillows in bed. He’s balding, shirtless, and overweight, eating potato chips from a
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