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hospital?”
    “Because God answered my prayer.”
    “How?”
    “Rick Larazo went into the Third Street Police Station and told them that he was the one who threw my baby on the ground.”
    “What?” Eve shook her head. “No way, Rosa. He wouldn’t have done that in a million years.”
    “I know,” she said simply. “That’s why it had to be God who made him do it.”
    “I don’t want to shake your faith in God, but I think there has to be some other explanation. I don’t think he would bother to deal—”
    “But you can’t give me any other reason.” Her smile was brilliant. “God must just love my Manuel and knew he’d be happy with me.”
    Give up. It was as good a reason as any other that she could think of, and it was making Rosa happy. “Who wouldn’t love your baby?” she asked gently. “I’m glad he decided to intercede.” Her tone hardened. “And I hope he used his influence to throw Rick Larazo into the hoosegow for the next twenty years.”
    Rosa giggled and started up the next flight of stairs to her apartment. “I’ll pray, Eve. Maybe it will happen. He’s listening to me right now.”
    As she heard Rosa’s door close behind her, Eve sank down on the bottom step. Lord, she was tired, and she had only a few hours before she had to shower and get ready for school.
    It had been a strange and terrible night. But the ending had not been as bad as the beginning. Rosa would be able to keep her Manuel, and if God continued to be good to her, then maybe she’d soften her father’s heart enough to accept the little boy.
    He answered my prayers.
    Maybe he had, but by what means? Rick Larazo was an addict, and he’d been wild tonight. Even if he’d come down off whatever he was on, he wouldn’t have waltzed into a police station to confess. He would have known that they’d book him. Being locked away from drugs was a nightmare he wouldn’t have risked. He would have had to have been more afraid of what was outside than what awaited him inside that jail. What would that be?
    I’m not a good guy.
    I’d do whatever I had to do to survive and get what I want.
    You really want to help her, don’t you?
    John Gallo?
    He had handled Larazo as if he were nothing, and it had taken him no time at all to knock him unconscious.
    How long would it have taken, what terrible punishment would he have handed out, to force Larazo to actually go into that police station and confess?
    And would he have done it if she hadn’t said that she wanted to help Rosa any way she could?
    If not, then his act bound her to him in a dark, breathless intimacy.
    It was all guesswork. John Gallo might not have been involved at all.
    She got to her feet and started up the flights of stairs. She’d probably be able to go straight to bed. She doubted if Sandra would be home. She spent the nights with “friends” most of the time. She only showed up at the apartment once or twice a week.
    No, she couldn’t go to bed yet. She hadn’t done her geometry. It seemed forever ago that she’d tossed that book in her book bag and taken off from the apartment. She’d have to do her homework before she could go to sleep.
    Just as well. She was still wide-awake. She didn’t want to lie awake in her bed. She wouldn’t mind if she lay there and thought about Rosa and the baby.
    But that wasn’t what she’d be thinking about. She’d be remembering how she’d felt when John Gallo had touched her.
    And she’d be remembering that last glimpse of him before the elevator closed …
    *   *   *
    IT WAS FIVE TO ELEVEN THE next evening when John Gallo walked into Mac’s Diner, where she worked.
    “Hi.” He stood at the counter. “You get off in five minutes, don’t you?”
    She tensed, then tried to say casually, “Fifteen, I have to do the setup for tomorrow.” She wiped the counter with her cloth. “What are you doing here?”
    “It looks like rain. I thought I’d take you home.”
    She shook her head. “I can take