Now she is quiet, trying to figure out where the problem is. So Old Man doesn’t like her? Is it because she is ugly, because she’s fat, because of the zits on her arms, because she’s never experienced anything worth talking about, because she doesn’t have the hoarse and seductive voice that other girls have? Because of her marshmallow body? A lot of girls get harassed by men. She’s heard the stories. It happens all the time. They get harassed online, for example. And in person, too. By tutors who give piano or English lessons. The afternoon tennis instructors, or swim coaches. Neighbors. Their friends’ fathers. So what’s wrong with her? Is she not attractive to anyone? Not even to Old Man? He has returned now to his treatise—his treasure—and he’s showing her the illustrations as if that conversation had never happened. She bites her lip, tries to stop her chin from trembling.

These are absolutely not good days. Soon’s stomach is churning with anxiety. The threat is lurking just around the corner—or in her case, through the hedges—and it gets closer and closer every day. This time things are really a mess. She tells Old Man the story in a labored voice. She was having lunch with her parents, she says, when someone rang the doorbell—a policeman. All three of them got really scared, so it wasn’t suspicious—or not too much—when Soon burst out crying as soon as she saw him. The cop soothed them, I’m only here to deliver a document, he told them, it’s just a formality, but it has to be done like this, by official delivery, a document from the school inspectorate, or social services, Soon didn’t understand that part very well. Did you see it?, asks Old Man. No, just the outside, but she heard her parents talking about it, the paper didn’t say what it was about, or even ask for any documentation. It was a mandatory appointment—a summons, both of her parents called it—a date, a time, and a place, and it’s within a few days. Okay, says Old Man, if it’s in a few days, they could very well forget!

Soon shudders. How could they forget? They’re really worried! Of course, they asked if there was something she hadn’t told them. Things like: Has anyone given you trouble? Have they hurt you? Threatened you? Have they asked you for money? Soon said no to everything. None of their questions came at all close to the truth. Maybe if her parents had asked the right question she wouldn’t have been able to deny it, but for them it’s impossible to imagine what she’s really been doing for the past two months, soon to be three. Her mother suggested calling the teacher to try to find out what the problem was, and then Soon did break down, she threw herself to the floor, got on her knees and begged her not to do it. The teacher never stopped ridiculing her in front of the other kids, she lied. Better to keep her out of it, please, please. Her mother was taken aback. All right, she said. She promised not to call and to wait for the appointment, though Soon doesn’t know if she’ll keep her promise or if she only made it to calm her daughter down. She fears the latter.