I wish my mother had taken the plea bargain and then this court appearance would be an ending, not a beginning.

I wish this didn’t feel like one more terrible mistake at the end of a long line of them.

My father is in Boston with my mom for moral support, though all of the lawyers collectively agreed that it was better if he stayed back in the hotel room. Safer for him to remain under the radar, rather than remind the prosecutor of his existence. Mr. Spence accompanies my mother into the courthouse, arms linked at the elbow, guiding her past the bevy of cameras. My mom follows Paloma’s instructions, which have changed course since the yoga studio incident—this time my mother is supposed to keep her eye-line down, remain serious and demure. Play it “accidentally in-over-your-head and scared,” Paloma said, and for maybe the first time, Paloma’s instructions 100 percent match reality. I imagine this is exactly how my mother feels.

There will be no tossing off catchphrases this time. None of us is at our “bestest.”

The house feels empty with my mom and dad and Mr. Spence away and the rest of the lawyers returned to their own offices for the time being. Even Cristof and Carrie were given a few days off. The paparazzi are no longer camped out in front of our house, and since I still refuse to venture out into the world, Isla and I are left with a credit card for Postmates. Our only instructions are to keep the alarm set around the clock and to occasionally feed ourselves, preferably with a vegetable or two. My mom, in a moment of Gwynethness, also left me her essential oils kit on my nightstand—she has her travel set—to rub on my wrists for stress relief.

Use as needed, sweet pea, she’d written in a note.

While Isla’s at school, I wander from room to room, lonely. I let my fingers drag along the spines on the bookcase but can’t bring myself to read anything. I switch on Netflix and then turn it off again. Too many choices. I click over to Instagram and create a fake account—I find a black-and-white picture of Dostoyevsky to use as my profile picture, and I set my location as Siberia. I feel ever-so-slightly clever, until I remember I still haven’t read the book. Maybe the reference makes no sense at all.