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"Jig tired," she replied, but I thought she was lying.

"Is Randall here?" I asked, looking about and wondering why she was keeping the house so dark.

"Oh, so that's it. Ya come to ask him to help ya some more, didja?" She nodded quickly, thinking she had discovered my reason for the visit.

"No, Fanny, I didn't."

"Well, it don't matter. He ain't here. He's gone." "Gone?"

"Ta think things ova. I told him ta make up his mind if he loves me or not and not ta come back here if he don't."

"I see." I realized that she must have just had this fight with him and maybe little Drake had witnessed the turmoil.

"But do 1dt go thinkin' tht might help ya with the judge. My lawya says whether I'm married or not don't matter anymore, since ya ain't really Drake's sista."

"He's probably right about that, Fanny "

She looked at me with surprise at my reasonable tone of voice. But that only confused her and she tightened up in expectation.

"What'cha want now, Heaven? Ya got somethin' on ya mind or ya wouldn't a come up here. So spit it out."

"Can't we sit down?"

"Go on, sit down if ya want. I'm standin'." She pulled her shoulders back in emphasis.

I walked into the living room and sat in a chair by the corner table Fanny followed, keeping her arms folded and eyeing me like a nervous squirrel.

"So, Fanny," I began, "you're going to win the custody of Drake, which means you'll have two children to care for."

"So what?" Her black eyes flashed again. "Ya don't think I kin care for them properly?"

"I didn't say that, but if Randall does leave you, it will make things hard. What about your financial situation? It can't be too good."

"My lawya says ya still got to send me money to support the baby that's comin'. He says no matter what fancy lawya ya hire, ya can't get outta it."

"Maybe. Still, we're not talking about a whole lot of money for you anyway, are we, Fanny?" She didn't reply; she simply glared at me, her black eyes narrowing.

"What did ya come here to tell me, Heaven? It wasn't that. What is it?"

"I came to make you an offer, Fanny "

"What kinda offa?"

"I'm going to offer you one million dollars if you will agree to give me custody of Drake."

I could see that it took a moment for the meaning of what I was saying to register in Fanny's mind. She blinked and then edged herself toward the couch. Then she smiled, but I saw immediately that this was a different smile from any other of Fanny's smiles. It was a calculating smile that sent a chill through me. She sat down, never taking her eyes off me for a moment.

"Well, be. Fancy this. Ya come here ta buy Drake jist the way the reverend came ta buy me. Jist the way Cal and Kitty came ta buy you. Ya want me ta do jist what Pa did: sell a child. But yer really no betta than all them people who came ta buy us Casteels, and that was somethin' ya said ya hated. Ya hated Pa fer doin' it and made him feel guilty till the day he died, didn't ya? Didn't ya!" she shouted.

I looked down. I couldn't keep the tears from streaming down my face.

"So there's finally somethin' ya want so much ya'd even do somethin' ya thought was so terrible ya went ta get revenge fer it and caused Tom's death."

"Fanny . ." My heart was beating so hard and so fast, I couldn't breathe.

"Don't say nothin'," she said, turning away. And then suddenly she started to cry, to cry what I was sure were real tears. She spoke without looking at me. "Sure I want a million dollars so I kin live high and mighty like you do." She turned to me, her eyes full of anger and pain. "But don'cha think I want somethin' else you always had and somethin' ya have now? Don'cha think I want love?" She shook her head. "I'd neva had it like ya did, neva, Heaven. You were the one who had the nice boyfriend when we was jist kids."

"But Fanny, you were so loose, no nice boy wanted to be with you," I protested.