Patch steps outside his gallery opening on Wooster Street and takes in the scene. Inside, about two hundred strangers study and buy work drawn from the hardest parts of his life. Charlotte and Sammy have assembled the show, including rough early sketches that embarrass Patch, but the central attraction is his series of paintings of the missing girls, each titled only by her first name and accompanied by brief notes.

The exhibition is commercially successful, yet Patch feels no glamour in it. A woman from Sacramento pays a great deal for one of his sketches, and when Patch asks why, she tells him that he makes tragedy beautiful. Patch cannot accept that idea, and Sammy ushers him away before his discomfort damages the sale.

Looking through the glass, Patch sees Charlotte in a pink dress that reminds him of Misty, and the resemblance brings back a fresh wave of grief. Saint arrives, and Patch greets her with obvious relief and affection. Saint says she is nearby for work but also wanted to witness Patch's success.

Patch admits that the evening feels hollow to him and that much of his life now feels like performance. He says that being a father, a friend, or even going through ordinary routines feels like playing a role in a story he believes cannot end well. As they talk, their old ease returns through familiar jokes and memories.

Patch then confesses a deeper uncertainty: because Saint never found proof of Grace and because Tooms was unreliable, Patch sometimes tries to believe Grace may not have been real at all, if only to lessen the weight of his losses. Saint does not answer with evidence; instead, she suggests that Grace changed Patch's world and that his life has still been fully lived because of that. When they stand before Grace Number One, which Patch refuses to sell, the moment ties his art, grief, and hope together.

The chapter ends quietly and tenderly. Patch and Saint revive another old memory, talking about rose trees and piano playing, and then Patch slowly dances with her on the street, slightly drunk and deeply grateful. His thanks show that, despite his doubt and sorrow, Saint remains one of the few steady presences in his life.