“How old,” Cloe said. “The child. If there is one. How old would they be.”
Amy was quiet for a moment.
“Twenty-two,” she said. “Maybe twenty-three. I was with Marshall for eight months. I was twenty years old. I didn’t know about Grace. I didn’t know about you. I found out I was pregnant and I told him and he.” She stopped. “He gave me money. He said it was to help. He said he’d be involved. He wasn’t.”
Cloe sat very still at her desk.
Mac was in his doorway. She had looked at him the moment Amy said she thought there might be another child and he had crossed the floor and was standing close now, not listening to the call, just there. Just present.
She put her hand over the phone.
“Another one,” she said to Mac quietly.
His face went very still.
She put the phone back to her ear.
