“Do you have any old dishes in there?”

Lucas stood in the doorway, opening and closing his fists.

“I don’t care what it is,” Marianne said. “Just get rid of it.” She was pleading now.

Lucas dipped his toe in the rug cleaner, then spread the white foam back and forth across the carpet. “Okay.”

Marianne felt a wash of relief. It was as if he had forgiven her for something. She touched the back of Lucas’s head and he stood still for a moment, allowing this. His hair was thick and vaguely unwashed, so that afterward, when he closed the door and she was left alone, she could feel a thin film of grease left on the tips. She held them underneath her nose and they smelled like sheets that have been slept in too long.

Richard was reading in the kitchen when he heard a thump. It was the heavy sound of a body hitting an object, and it made him drop the newspaper and race up the stairs, his wife abandoning her pots and pans and stumbling behind him. They turned into the hallway and saw Lucas standing over Sarah, trying to pry something out of her fingers. When the boy saw Richard, he jumped into his room and slammed the door.

There was a gash across Sarah’s forehead. A dark splitting of skin that seemed to pulse for a moment before releasing a rush of blood down the side of her face. In her hands was a clear plastic bag. When she saw her parents, she held the bag up like a prize. Inside was the body of a kitten, emaciated and stiff, the fur orange and white. A brownish liquid seeped from one of the corners.

“I found it in his closet,” Sarah said. “It stinks.” She let go of the kitten and began to vomit on the carpet.

“Get some towels!” Richard shouted. The cut looked deeper than he’d thought. He pressed his hand against the opening as Sarah coughed onto the floor. When she started to cry, he lifted her in his arms.

Marianne held out a wet washcloth and a blanket. They needed to go to the hospital, and she kept turning her head to look at the kitten. Richard pushed the plastic bag to the side with his foot. He told Marianne to get the keys. He carried Sarah down to the car. Then he came back for Lucas.

Richard beat the door with his fist. He shoved once, twice, leaning his weight. He could feel his son pushing against him on the other side.

“That’s it,” said Richard. And he kicked the door in.