She called Mercy before the taxi reached the street. Mercy answered on loud music and breathless laughter. Isabel pressed the phone to her ear and tried to steady her voice.

“Where are you,” Isabel asked. “Can I come over.”

“I am not home,” Mercy said. “I am out. Are you okay. You sound off.”

“I will text,” Isabel said. “It is fine.”

She ended the call and stared out the window. Her throat felt raw. She told the driver to keep going and asked for a hotel near the ...