“Her daughter?”

“She has my eyes, Paul.”

He looked down at me again, his chest rising and falling rapidly under his heavy coat.

“And she is freezing to death.”

“Where is Mary?” Paul asked.

I looked up at the man, feeling a tear freeze on my cheek.

“She’s in the big hospital,” I said, my voice small. “The one with the red sign.”

Ethan leaned closer to me. “St. Anne’s?”

I nodded. “Mrs. Higgins took her there. She said Mama fell down the stairs because the lights in our hallway were broken.”

“The landlord locked us out after that,” I whispered, holding my doll tighter.

“He took our suitcases.”

Ethan’s face turned to stone.

“Paul,” he said into the phone, his voice cold enough to match the Chicago wind.

“I’m listening,” the lawyer said.

“Find the landlord,” Ethan said. “And get my car to Millennium Park. Now.”

The phone in his hand vibrated with a sudden, incoming alert, the screen flashing bright red against the snow.

Ethan stared down at the screen.

His jaw tightened so hard I could see a small muscle twitching near his ear.