The place looked like nothing had happened, and Carly immediately collapsed onto my "earth-tone" couch. I hadn't told her my apartment had been tossed along with the robbery and, thanks to Rosalyn, I didn't need to. In fact, it actually looked cleaner than it had in months. Maybe, I thought, I should reprioritize my life and hire her more often.
Then I got a glass of water for Carly and sat down next to her.
"I'm really sorry," I began, deeply meaning it. "If I'd known all this was going to happen, I'd never—"
"It's not your fault." She took a long drink. I hadn't bothered with ice, and I immediately felt I'd been inhospitable. Kind of a vagrant, minor concern, considering. Then she went on. "I guess I knew down deep I shouldn't have given you that interview. But I wanted the world to know about Kevin. Now, though . . . should I call the police or something?"
The short answer to that was yes, but my mind was already skipping on to a different topic.
"Carly, do you know where Kevin came from? Really came from? Did you ever actually try to find out?"
She sighed and took another sip.
"I told you I don't care. When they brought him, all pink and helpless, I just—"
"Who brought him?" I interrupted.
"Well, I'd been up there the day before, signing all the papers. I was supposed to go up that day, but then somebody called and said one of the girls who was staying in the clinic or whatever it is was bringing him to me. So don't come."