“Now Andreea, she’s been talking about it a lot lately,” Micah adds, ignoring my comment as he carefully puts the bottle back into the bucket. “Must be because we’re coming up on the anniversary of your mum’s death.”

I don’t say a word as I scrape my nails back and forth against my leg.

“Andreea says you thought your mother was guilty. Do you still think that?”

“She was innocent,” I snap.

“That’s what Andreea says. But that’s not what you always believed.”

It’s not a question, so I don’t bother to create an answer.

“It shouldn’t matter, you know,” he says. “Guilty or innocent, she was still your blood. If she did kill that guy, well, maybe she had her reasons, or maybe she just made a mistake. But even if she was guilty of taking a life she was still responsible for giving life to you.”

“All right.” I put my utensils down on my plate and lean back in my chair. “But just so we’re clear, she didn’t kill Nick. She wasn’t a murderer.”

Micah nods, accepting this. “So you think your mum took the blame for someone else’s crime?”

I grit my teeth and reach for my wineglass.

“If that’s true . . . that would mean that you believed the cops over your own mum.”

Again I don’t answer.

“Is that why you don’t fear death, Sweet? Because you think you don’t deserve life, not really?”

I smile as I swallow more wine. “I wasn’t aware that you moonlighted as a shrink. Am I being charged for this bullshit?”

Micah breaks out laughing. It’s a full-throated laugh and it almost makes me smile . . . But the subject of our conversation is too sour for me to enjoy the sweetness of this little moment. I finish my second glass of wine and allow Micah to pour me another.

“It doesn’t really matter if any of us deserve to live or die, Sweet. I don’t know if any of us deserve all this.” He gestures around him at the world at large. “But we all owe our lives to our parents. When we don’t at least fight for those few extra days, months, years, hours . . . When we give up on life, we’re reneging on our greatest debt. If there’s one rule I live by, one that I’ve spent my life enforcing, it’s that you never, ever renege on a debt. If you do . . . well, sometimes you have to pay with your life. But in your case?” He lifts his barely touched wineglass and holds it up to the light. “In your case you pay by living.”

I shake my head, let my eyes wander the room, looking for celebrities among the überchic Tribeca crowd. “You’re a study in contradictions, Micah.”

“And you’re a liar, Sweet.”