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fell, she removed herself from her mother’s lap and sat in her own chair.

“Very good. Now, what did I just say to you? Do you remember what I said about this blade?”

Hallow repeated what she’d said word for word.

“Perfect. Now, we don’t need much. Only as much as a thumb or a pointer finger length’s worth of caul. One piece of it should be enough to pay to get that rug cleaned or replaced.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. We help people, Hallow. Never forget that. Everything here was maintained by us, by our bodies, so that we don’t have to answer to anyone or anything. You may not understand how powerful that is now because you’re still young, but one day you will because all of this is going to be your responsibility. Understand?”

Hallow nodded.

“I cannot hear you.”

“Yes, Maman. I understand.”

Maman placed the knife in front of Hallow and said, “Here. I want you to hold it.”

“Maman—” Josephine interjected.

“Shh! Go ahead, Hallow. Just grab the handle.” Hallow turned her head slightly, and Maman commanded, “Don’t look at your mother, look at me.”

Hallow reluctantly held the knife with a slack wrist, slowly turning it from side to side to assess its range.

“How does it feel in your hands?”

“Cold. Smooth. I don’t know.”

“Well, you better know soon enough. You’re going to have to learn how to use it.”

“Maman, that won’t be for years,” Josephine chimed in.

“No. It’s going to be today. Hold my hand here, sweetie.”

Landon walked over to Josephine and gripped her shoulder with increasing pressure with each step that Maman and Hallow took toward Iris’s body.

The doorbell rang followed by three loud raps.

“Were you expecting someone?” Maman whispered to Josephine.

Josephine mouthed No.

“Police!” a voice yelled from behind the door.

Maman straightened her posture and started toward the door. “Out of all the years I’ve been in this place, not once have the police come.” She cut her eyes at Josephine and Landon. “Neither of you better be lying to me.”

She opened the door, and two portly officers stood on her porch. One of them took off his hat in deference, and the other squinted and sized her up from head to toe.

“We’ve gotten some complaints about some suspicious activity that’s been going on here, and we’ve come to inquire.” The interrogating officer, whose badge said EVANS, pulled up his trousers, which could not be supported by his thin belt. His gut pillowed over the buckle, and one button on his uniform shirt was hanging on by a single thread. Maman relaxed her shoulders and leaned toward him, as she surpassed him in height by several inches.

“Do you have a warrant?”

“No, we do not, ma’am.” The younger-looking officer removed his hat and smiled. “We just want to check to see if everything is all right.”

“But we’ll come back with one if need be,” Officer Evans added.

“In that case, I’ll await your return. Good day to you both.” As Maman stepped back to close the door, Officer Evans looked beyond Maman’s left shoulder and saw Hallow holding the knife that Maman had given to her without the support of a strong wrist. The handle was bigger than the girl’s hand, and her elbow pointed at the side of her rib like she did not know what to do with the knife.

The officer placed his foot in between the door and the frame and said, “Just a moment.” He pointed. “What’s that child doing with that knife?”

Maman half turned around and opened the door wide enough to reveal Iris’s body on the rug. The two officers entered through the space she inadvertently opened up by pivoting. Now that the police were in, Maman could not kick them out without force. She surveyed the block for witnesses, but there was no one else but a white couple walking their baby on the other side of the street, and she gently closed the door.

For a moment, no one spoke. All the adults’ eyes jumped from person to person. Their bodies circled Hallow and Iris.

“Somebody better start talking soon, or I am taking you all down to the precinct.”

“Hover your hand over Iris’s nose. She’s fine.”

Officer Evans did what Maman said to do and felt hot breath in his palm.

Maman caught a glimpse of the officer’s badge. “You wouldn’t happen to be the husband of Sister Evans, would you?”

The officer faced Maman. “Yes.”

“The one who attends the block association meetings at that Presbyterian church down at the corner?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“She’s sick, is she not? Poor woman. I saw it in her walk. You could set a glass on her back. And those hands. She has more stems than a tree, and her face looks like a mold falling from the cast. For someone still fairly young, she’s not well. She came to me and asked what I could do for her.”

The younger officer turned to Officer Evans, whose eyes had now welled up with tears and whose Adam’s apple bobbed up and down in his throat with the words he could not say. “Mike, I think you ought to go back to the precinct,” Officer Evans said through clenched teeth.

“And leave you here by yourself?” He leaned into Officer Evans’s ear and whispered, “I’m supposed to be your backup for things like this.”

“I don’t need backup,” Officer Evans replied at regular volume. “Go on. I’ll fill you in later.”

“You sure?”

“Boy, I said go on.”

His backup took one last look at everyone in the room and left.

Once Officer Evans heard the door close, he walked up to Maman and tipped his chin to meet her face.

“What all did she tell you?”

Josephine and Landon leaned forward and waited.

“Many things. Things women only tell to other women. Things a man cannot know because what he cannot fix would drive him crazy. But I have something for her.”

“No, no. I’ve heard about you lot, and I was there.”

“There for what?”

“There for what you did to Laila Reserve.”

“Who’s Laila Reserve?” Hallow asked.

There was a brief pause. Josephine, Landon, and Maman alternated looks at one

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