"Let me up," Leigh moaned. "Oh, for God's sake, get off of me!" She wriggled and pushed and struggled to her feet, then ran to the door, which was closed. (Still closed, a part of her mind noted, and therefore, no one had entered.) But she paid no more attention to that than to the voice that called after her as she ran out the door and breathlessly, dangerously fast, down the six flights to the street.

Where had he gone? It was early evening, not yet dark, and a lot of people were on the street. Leigh saw a group of boys--all of them older than her son, and they were black--her son was not among them but, she thought, they might know something. They might have seen him.

They watched her warily as she came running towards them. "Have you seen--have any of you seen--" she was gasping for breath and her words were unclear. They shifted uneasily, waiting. "Have you seen my son? A boy, about seven or eight, blond, running?"

They shook their heads. "No." "Nope." "No'm'm."

"Please. If any of you--"

She saw movement from the corner of her eye, and her head jerked around. A boy, head down, running. Without thinking, Leigh ran after him, wishing desperately for his name. But she needed all her breath for running; she couldn't waste it in a cry that would probably be ignored.

She caught him at the end of a tight little alley, as he was flinging himself against the splintery face of a high, wooden fence-trying to climb it, or vault it.

She wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Oh, don't run from me," she said, almost whispering. "Don't. I've waited for you for so long. I never would have abandoned you--don't you see? If I'd known--"

The boy stared at her in terror. He was the right age, but he was dark, with brown eyes, short black hair and brown skin. He said something in a language Leigh did not understand.

"Is that the language they taught you? You'll have to learn to speak my language now. I'll teach you English." She rubbed at his face with the fingertips of one hand, loosening her grasp on him. "What did you do to yourself? Why did you change your color? Why are you in disguise, dear? Oh, darling--" she looked at him with pity. "Do you understand me at all?"

He was writhing in her grasp, trying to get at something in his pockets. He had one hand free.

"Dear, what is your name? Did they give you a name? How strange this is--you don't understand me, do you? And I thought, when I first saw you--well, I never thought we'd meet like this." Leigh frowned. She had liked him better as a blonde--she had grown accustomed to thinking of him as fair and blue-eyed. Why did he persist in this disguise?

"What's that?" It seemed to be a knife he held, but perhaps this was something the Others had given him, some alien artifact.

"Let me see, dear." Her fingers closed around the blade; he moved it in her grasp; she drew her hand back, bloody.

"What..."

There was a sudden pain in her shoulder, and the boy was trying to duck around her and run away. She grabbed him with her good hand.

"What's happening?" She demanded. She was confused, frightened and bleeding badly, but she would not let him go. He began to slash at her restraining arm with the artifact that was nothing but a knife, after all.

But she did not let go. She heard voices--high, inhuman voices--and looked around for help. There they were, watching. They were trying to tell her something, but she could not understand. She could not hear, for the buzzing in her ears and the desperate breathing of her son. She was losing too much blood; she was afraid she would faint, and he would leave her.

What were they telling her? Were they congratulating her, welcoming her? Were they warning her of a mistake? Were they telling her the one last, important thing she must do?

They had taken her son from her once before--taken even the memory of him. Were they trying to take him again? Were their words directed to him, telling him to break away from her and come back with them?

She would not let them. With the last of her strength, with power she had not known she possessed, Leigh hugged her son to her breast. His knife was driven into her heart and bound them together. Forever and always.