The Mephisto Club

halfway down the stairs to listen in on the conversation.
    “And really, how many adults has he known? Your brother didn’t exactly qualify. He was so wrapped up in his old mummy linens, he probably never noticed there was a child underfoot.”
    “That’s not fair, Amy. My brother was a good man.”
    “Good, but clueless. I can’t imagine what kind of woman would dream of having a child with him. And then she leaves the boy behind for Monty to raise? I don’t understand any woman who’d do that.”
    “Monty didn’t do such a bad job raising him. The boy’s getting top marks in school.”
    “That’s your measurement for what makes a good father? The fact that the boy gets top marks?”
    “He’s also a poised young man. Look how well he held up at the service.”
    “He’s numb, Peter. Did you see a single emotion on his face today?”
    “Monty was like that, too.”
    “Cold-blooded, you mean?”
    “No, intellectual. Logical.”
    “But underneath it all, you
know
that boy has got to be hurting. It makes me want to cry, how much he needs his mother right now. How he keeps insisting she’ll come back for him, when we know she won’t.”
    “We don’t know that.”
    “We’ve never even met the woman! Monty just writes us from Cairo one day, to tell us he has a brand-new son. For all we know, he plucked him up from the reeds, like baby Moses.”
    The boy heard the floor creak above him, and he glanced toward the top of the stairs. He was startled to see his cousin Lily staring down at him over the banister. She was watching him, studying him, as if he were some exotic creature she’d never before encountered and she was trying to decide if he was dangerous.
    “Oh!” said Aunt Amy. “You’re up!”
    His aunt and uncle had just come out of the study, and they were standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at him. Looking a little dismayed, too, at the possibility that he had overheard their entire conversation.
    “Are you feeling all right, dear?” said Amy.
    “Yes, Auntie.”
    “It’s so late. Maybe you should go back to bed now?”
    But he didn’t move. He paused on the stairs for a moment, wondering what it would be like to live with these people. What he might learn from them. It would make the summer interesting, until his mother came for him.
    He said, “Aunt Amy, I’ve made up my mind.”
    “About what?”
    “About my summer, and where I’d like to spend it.”
    She instantly assumed the worst. “Please don’t be too hasty! We have a really nice house, right on the lake, and you’d have your own room. At least come for a visit before you decide.”
    “But I’ve decided to come stay with you.”
    His aunt paused, temporarily stunned. Then her face lit up in a smile, and she hurried up the steps to give him a hug. She smelled like Dove soap and Breck shampoo. So average, so ordinary. Then a grinning Uncle Peter gave him an affectionate clap on the shoulder, his way of welcoming a new son. Their happiness was like a web of spun sugar, drawing him into their universe, where all was love and light and laughter.
    “The kids will be so glad you’re coming back with us!” said Amy.
    He glanced toward the top of the stairs, but Lily was no longer there. She had slipped away, unnoticed. I will have to keep my eye on her, he thought. Because already, she’s keeping her eye on me.
    “You’re part of our family now,” said Amy.
    As they walked up the stairs together, she was already telling him her plans for the summer. All the places they’d take him, all the special meals they’d cook for him when they got back home. She sounded happy, even giddy, like a mother with her brand-new baby.
    Amy Saul had no idea what they were about to bring home with them.

TWO
    Twelve years later.
    Perhaps this was a mistake.
    Dr. Maura Isles paused outside the doors of Our Lady of Divine Light, uncertain whether she should enter. The parishioners had already filed in, and she stood alone in the night as snow whispered down onto her uncovered head. Through the closed church doors she heard the organist begin playing “Adeste Fidelis,” and she knew that by now everyone would be seated. If she was going to join them, this was the time to step inside.
    She hesitated, because she did not truly belong among the believers inside that church. But the music called to her, as did the promise of warmth and the solace of familiar rituals. Out here, on the dark street, she stood alone. Alone on