Across the room, the instructor gestured for our attention and sliced a hand through the air as if signaling a race. “You may remove your sheets,” he said.

I met Vani’s eyes again, trying to contain the distress in mine. I must have failed, because she reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “I’m glad you’re my partner,” she said. She reached her other hand for Emma, who then reached for Zadie, who then reached for me, so the four of us were linked around the giant erection as if we were about to break into some kind of ultra-bizarre maypole dance. I felt the beginnings of a grin.

“Here’s to the best year ever,” said Vani.

—

DECLAN LISTENED TO the story of our first week—gross anatomy lab and all—with the same series of expressions as most men who’ve heard the story: keen interest, followed by a smirk, followed by an expression of abject horror at the thought of a posthumous penis dissection by a group of young women. “Aaah,” he said weakly.

“Over the years, the way we met has spawned a lot of penis jokes.” Vani motioned to Georgia. “Georgia’s the best at them, obviously.”

“I’m a urologist,” explained Georgia to Declan, “not a penis connoisseur. But yes: I know plenty of male anatomy jokes. It’s actually a requirement for our board certification.”

“It’s not,” Hannah assured Declan, even as Georgia launched into one.

She pointed at him. “Unscramble the letters P-S-N-I-E to name a part of the human body that works best when erect.”

“Penis?”

“Spine, you pervert. Nice try.”

“Aaaah,” said Declan again. He sat without speaking for a moment, blinking his blue eyes before giving himself a little shake. “Right! Spine!” He motioned to the server. “Anyone up for sangria?”

As everyone chatted and drank, my phone buzzed in my bag. I ignored it, caught up in watching the faces of my friends and my children and even my ex-boyfriend. With the exception of Wally, Zadie, and Emma—and my elderly parents in Kentucky—everyone I truly loved sat at this table, on this sunny sidewalk, in this ancient city that had hosted a stream of human life for more than two thousand years. Georgia: telling a story, laughing so hard she snorted her drink through her nose. Beau, soaking it all in, consumed with pleasure at being included. Rorie, trying and failing to hide her fascination at the adult conversation. Compton’s wry commentary, Hannah’s radiant goodwill, Vani’s beneficence.

Later, looking back, this would become the moment in time from which I’d divide my existence into two sections. Mere moments later, I’d reach for my phone and know, immediately, that for me at least, nothing would ever be the same again.

9

The Dumbest Crime in History

HANNAH

SEVILLE, SPAIN