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“We’ll bring you back then.”
Jessica Charlotte bent down again and grasped the key, holding it just below the bulging plastic top part. Just as she was lifting it, with some difficulty, she stopped and pointed at the glass at her feet.
“These are photographs,” she said. “Who are they?”
“People in our family.”
“Who is that?”
She was pointing to a black and white picture of a young woman holding a baby in her arms. Beside her was a tall, good-looking man in naval uniform.
“That’s your Lottie,” said Omri’s father very quietly. “With her husband and Jane. My Jane, Omri’s mother. Jane Charlotte.”
Omri’s Aunt Jessie stood with the heavy key, its end still resting on the glass, in her hands, staring and staring down at the faded photo. When she had looked her fill, she turned, lifted the key, which was nearly as big as herself, and turned her face to them. The tears in her eyes caught the light in starlike pinpoints.
“I will never despair again,” she said. “Now please. Send me about my business.”
6Little Bull’s Need (#ulink_f4f4202d-fe21-529d-b58b-7c45243eb9b9)
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