“Dom?” I ask.

He stops, cocks his head, until the penny drops. “Oh. Lynne. Hey.”

I cringe at the name he gave me. Now’s not the time to tell him I despise the nickname, though.

We stand in front of each other, me with my plastic bag dangling from my fingertips, him with his soul bleeding all over the floor between us.

“Everything all right?” I peer into his face.

“Yeah, I’m . . .” He looks around us, pushing his fingers through rich strands of chestnut locks. “I will be all right. I’m having a night. That’s all.”

“What happened?”

I’m aware that we have an audience in the form of Cashier Guy, but I don’t care. Dom looks off.

“Oh, it’s nothing.” He grabs a bag of chips, then slams it on the checkout counter. “Normal life stuff. Here. I’m getting fucking chips. Happy?” he asks the cashier.

“No, tell me.” I stay rooted in place. I’m not going to be an asshole twice tonight. I let Dad down. I’m not failing this guy too. Especially after the solid he did for me.

Not when I was thinking earlier how we all have a Virginia Woolf inside us. Someone who wants to fill their pockets with rocks and disappear into a lake.

Dom gives me a once-over. His smile hangs on his face like a half moon. Sad and incomplete. “I lost a patient today. She was nine.” The last word is barely audible as Dom’s voice breaks. I feel my heart ballooning to a monstrous size, then popping right there in my chest. I grab his hand and pull him from the cashier and from the pitiful bag of chips and from the convenience store. Far away from this place, with the static lights and stained linoleum floor.

“Come with me.”

“Who’s the axe murderer now?” he asks tiredly, but he doesn’t resist. For all his strength and muscles, his hand is limp and cold in mine. He follows me.

“I’m going to feed you something that’s not chips, and then I want you to tell me everything about your shift.” I stop for a beat, then add, “And then I am going to kill you. Don’t worry, I’ll dump your body somewhere exotic.”

He laughs weakly, because he has to, but he still laughs, which is what I was aiming for.

I shove him into my Chevy. I untuck the gas pump and start driving. We split a sleeve of Oreos, and I engage him in light small talk. Where did he go to college? (Northeastern for undergrad, Boston College for his nursing degree.) What’s his favorite color? (Purple.) If he could date one celebrity, who would it be? (Probably Kendall Jenner, though he reserves the right to switch to Zendaya.)

He answers my questions, subdued. I head to Wendy’s, where I buy him a Baconator burger with a side of fries, a Frosty, and chili. Okay, the chili is actually so I can have the crackers that come with it. I park in the joint’s parking lot and take the food out, then lean against the hood of my car. Dom joins me. I pass him his food.