She opened the door without asking who it was.

"Are you Kimmy Dale?"

The girl at the door was young. Eighteen, twenty, something like that. Nope, not a Jehovah's Witness. Didn't have that scooped-out-brain smile. For a moment Kimmy wondered if she was one of Chally's recruits, but that wasn't it. The girl wasn't ugly or anything, but she wasn't for Chally. Chally liked flash and glitter.

"Who are you?" Kimmy asked.

"That's not important."

"Excuse me?"

The girl lowered her eyes and bit on her lower lip. Kimmy saw something distantly familiar in the gesture and felt a small ripple in her chest.

The girl said, "You knew my mother."

Kimmy fiddled with the cigarette. "I know lots of mothers."

"My mother," the girl said, "was Candace Potter."

Kimmy winced when she said that. It was north of ninety degrees, but she suddenly tightened her robe.

"Can I come in?"

Did Kimmy say yes? She couldn't say. She stepped to the side, and the girl pushed her way past.

Kimmy said, "I don't understand."

"Candace Potter was my mother. She put me up for adoption the day I was born."

Kimmy tried to keep her bearings. She closed the trailer door. "You want something to drink?"

"No, thank you."

The two women looked at each other. Kimmy crossed her arms.

"Not sure what you want here," she said.

The girl spoke as if she'd been rehearsing. "Two years ago I learned that I was adopted. I love my adopted family, so I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I have two sisters and wonderful parents. They've been very good to me. This isn't about them. It's just that… when you find out something like this, you need to know."