Late that night in Breckenridge, Saint calls Patch from a pay phone outside her motel after spending hours at the Summit County Police Department, sending her report to Himes, and reviewing her notes. Standing beneath tall lilacs and looking at the mountain above the town, Saint feels the scale of the place and the weight of what she has learned.

Patch answers in the dark at midnight, and Saint apologizes for waking him. Their conversation briefly turns to ordinary matters: Patch says he thinks Misty may have a husband because he only sees her early on Sundays and knows little about her current life, and Saint asks whether Patch is meeting with his parole officer. The exchange shows how limited and fragile Patch’s restored life still is.

The tone shifts when Patch says he worries about Saint and admits he has thought about her every day, along with what Jimmy did. Saint brushes the subject aside, but privately she is reminded that the damage from Jimmy’s violence and the life she lost still aches beneath the surface. The call exposes how much history and pain still bind Saint and Patch together.

Saint then asks whether Patch remembers Summer Reynolds, one of the missing girls from Fort Worth. Patch immediately recalls Summer vividly, describing her appearance and the way her mother spoke about her, which underscores how carefully he has held the missing girls in his mind for years.

Saint tells Patch what she has confirmed in Breckenridge: the child whose grave was uncovered is Summer Reynolds. The revelation gives one of the long-unsolved disappearances a terrible certainty, transforming an abstract search into a named death. Patch responds only with the abrupt end of the call, and the silence conveys the force of the blow.