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She took a deep breath. But didn’t break eye contact. They could have been there for ten seconds or ten minutes, or a lifetime, before she spoke.

“My mother took me to him. To fix me. She thought that I was broken.” She tried to smile but could not. “She wanted to leave me there, but he didn’t have any beds. By the time one had freed up, I’d changed.”

“Changed?”

“I’d learned what she wanted me to be. I learned to pretend. So I wouldn’t be sent to that place. I learned what it would take for my mother to love me. But—” Ruth raised her hands, then dropped them back. One to her lap, the other to rest gently, protectively, on Rosa. “That was a long time ago.”

“My mother isn’t finished with me yet,” he said and saw her smile. Just a little.

“Probably true.”

Armand glanced at the demon duck and knew that, if and when the time came and Rosa was in distress, Ruth would do what was necessary. So great was her love.

“Enid wasn’t so lucky,” Ruth continued. “She was a young mother and was having trouble sleeping. She’d begun having anxiety attacks. So she went to Cameron for help. She came home . . .” Ruth looked around. “She found peace here. At least for a little while each day.”

“And the monkeys? Did she ever explain them?”

“She said when she was in the Allan she could hear them. She knew she wasn’t alone. It was comforting.”

“And she never told anyone?” he asked.

“Not as far as I know. Just me. When she died and her house was sold, I was worried that her kids would find something among her things. And it would be upsetting.”

“That’s why you suggested that Reine-Marie help to sort through things. So if there was anything to find, she’d get there first.”

“Yes. Imagine finding out that your mother had been tortured. If Enid had wanted them to know, she’d have told them herself. Explained. Answered their questions. But now . . .”

Now, thought Armand, there were no answers. How do you explain a Ewen Cameron? A Harold Shipman? How do you explain what happened to Haniya Daoud? How do you begin to explain brown brown?

Not just that it could happen, but that so many could know about it and do nothing.

What are you doing out there, Ralph?

“Why did you want to speak to Reine-Marie?”

“I wanted to say that the truth doesn’t set everyone free. For some it becomes a burden. A stinking albatross. I wanted to ask Reine-Marie if it was necessary to tell them.”

Armand stood up and, reaching into his parka pocket, he brought out a linen napkin.

“From Jean-Guy.”

Then he bent down and kissed her cheek.

Reine-Marie looked down at the box. Full of things collected over a lifetime. Including one small slip of paper. On Allan Memorial letterhead. Explaining everything.

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Haniya said, “Can I ask you a question?”

When Susan and James nodded, she said, “Was she a good mother?”

The question took them by surprise. Susan said, “Of course.” But it took James longer to answer.

“Yes. She could be impatient, sometimes a little unpredictable. But she was great.”

“Did you know that you were loved?”

“Why are you asking this?” asked James. “Why’re you even here?”

“I—”