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snapped.
    “He bit me,” she said, holding out her hand, where there was a cherry-sized welt below the knuckle of the index finger.
    “That’s because you mismanaged things,” he retorted.
    “It’s because he’s a—”
    “I said, that’s enough,” the old man cut her off in a low voice, and swallowing her words, she stepped back from us.
    Turning to me again, the old man nodded toward the burgundy chairs. “Please, have a seat,” he said softly.
    “My name is Loren,” I said, shrinking from him.
    “Listen to what I have to say,” he said, sitting down himself and crossing his legs, “and afterward I promise that you will have a clear choice: you may return to your aunt, or I will send her a letter, which I’ll show you, telling her that you are all right and choose to remain with me.”
    “Why would I want to do that?”
    “Just listen and maybe you’ll see why.”
    “Kidnapping is against the law, you know,” I shot back, surprising myself, but not him.
    “There are other laws, Enzo,” he replied.
    “That’s not my name,” I said. Then something occurred to me. “Hey, maybe you’ve got the wrong kid. Did you ever think of that?”
    He shook his head. “And they are important laws,” he went on in a kindly voice, “never to be underestimated. By their lights, yours seems to me to be a very special case. What if I told you that I am your uncle—I mean your real uncle—and that we have the same blood flowing in our veins? To some, that is a more powerful sort of law.”
    “What?”
    “It’s a fact,” he said gravely. “But if I had told it to the woman you call your aunt, revealing my identity, and she rebuffed me, I might never have had another chance to bring you into my life. Certainly not without her permission, for I have no legal claim on you. Once I found you, I wasn’t about to lose you—unless you wanted it so. I’ve learned that when something’s been lost and you manage to recoverit, you do everything in your power not to lose it again. I have learned too—the hard way—that if you do lose it again, you’ll never recover it. I did not want to coerce your aunt, but, still, I undertook extraordinary measures to get you here. I have to live with that. From now on, though, what I want can only occur with your consent. You see, after investigating your aunt’s circumstances, and yours, and learning just how tenuous your relationship with her is, I took this chance. I thought it my best chance.” He smiled. “Understand, I used to be a gambler.”
    I shook my head. “No, I don’t understand anything you’re saying.”
    “Just hear me out, please. Please,” he repeated softly.
    I sat down, my mind racing. “I can still go back to Alma if I want to?” I was still frightened, but, whether he was crazy or not, I did not think this man would harm me physically.
    He nodded. “Absolutely. You will hear many things about me, but never, ever, that I break my word. My name is Junius Samax. Your real mother was my niece. That lady’s sister. The two are my brother Nilus’s daughters, whom I raised—not very successfully, I’m afraid—after his death. Your mother died at nineteen, and unknown to me, she had given birth to you three months earlier and immediately put you up for adoption.” He took a piece of paper, folded into quarters, from inside his jacket. “But first she gave you a name. This is a copy of your birth certificate. Two months ago I happened to learn of your existence. With a great deal of effort, and now satisfaction, I traced you to your current life.” He handed me the piece of paper.
    The letters danced before my eyes, and as I read, my hands began to shake. COUNTY OF LAS VEGAS, THE STATE OF NEVADA was printed floridly across the top. Embossed on one side was a notary’s seal over which I ran my thumb. The birth certificate was for one ENZO SAMAX ; 7 POUNDS 14 OUNCES ; blood type: DOUBLE-O-NEGATIVE ; time of birth: 2:20 A.M .; place: LAS VEGAS,