The Time Keepers

Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

T HEY EXITED THE CAR AND BEGAN WALKING TOWARD THE STATION house, three shadows of varying sizes stretched across the asphalt like string puppets on a dark stage.

Inside, the strong smell of stale coffee and disinfectant clung to the air. A man at the desk wrote down their names, then motioned them toward the waiting room and told them to sit down.

“We’ve got some good news,” an officer soon informed them. “There was a Vietnamese boy reported missing about twenty-four hours ago who fits the description you gave us. The Hulk T-shirt gave it away.” He glanced down at his paperwork. On the top, attached by a single paperclip, was a copy of a photograph that matched the child in front of him. “Are you B?o Phan?” He struggled to pronounce the name.

Grace noticed the child’s eyes flicker.

“Come with me,” he said, waving them to follow him down the corridor. “Looks like he’s been living at Our Lady Queen of Martyrs. He arrived there several weeks ago, with a few other Vietnamese refugees.…”

Grace recognized the name immediately. The sprawling brick building with stained glass windows was only a few miles away from Bellegrove. It was situated on the grounds of a large natural preserve that, according to local lore, had been donated to the church by a childless widow back in the 1920s. A small group of Sisters still lived on the property, but Grace had no idea they were now housing refugees there.

“And what about his parents?” she cut in.

“It seems he’s under the guardianship of his aunt,” the officer said. He pulled open a door.

“Her name is Anh Ho. She showed up about an hour before you and the boy did.”

They stepped inside the sterile conference room, and Grace saw the boy’s chin drop to his chest.

Across the long faux-wood table, a slender young woman, flanked by a social worker and translator, leapt up. She called out B?o’s name so loudly it sounded like a wail.

“Anh,” the social worker said softly, guiding her back to her seat.

The woman fell back into the chair, but the words she now uttered were full of emotion and urgency. She tucked a few wisps of long black hair behind her ears and then reached for the small plastic container she’d brought. Inside, it contained five perfect slivers of mango and some cut strawberries. She pushed the container toward B?o and again murmured something Grace didn’t understand.

The translator interpreted for Grace and Tom. “She’s brought him something to eat. She was worried he’d be hungry.”

But Grace sensed it was more that. As B?o took the slivers of fruit, Anh’s eye wetted with emotion. The mango had been brought with love.