Fragile shoulders rose and fell. Briana Szemencic gazed up the block. “I don’t think I should go there.”

“Touchy business?”

“Not my business,” said Briana. “Anyway, Nora would never hurt anyone. If you’re thinking that, you’re totally wrong.”

“Why would we be thinking that?”

“You’re asking was she mad. She was but not that type of mad.”

“Not the jealous type of mad?”

Briana didn’t answer.

Milo said, “Nora and Dylan, Dylan and Michaela. But no jealousy.”

“Nora had the hots for Dylan, okay? It’s no crime, she’s a woman.”

“Had or has?”

“I don’t know.”

“Same question, Briana.”

“Has. Okay?”

“How’d Nora feel about Dylan and Michaela hanging out?”

Briana shook her head. “She never said anything. It’s not like we were tight. Can I go now? Please?”

“Nora didn’t like Dylan and Michaela hanging but she wasn’t really pissed off about it.”

“She’d never hurt Michaela. Never, ever. You need to understand Nora, she’s...she’s kind of, really, like, she’s not, you know...she’s here.” Tapping her pretty forehead.

“Intellectual?”

Tush lips struggled to form words. Finally, she said, “That’s not what I mean, I’m talking more, like, you know, she’s intensely right brain. Intuitionalistic. That’s the point of the workshops, she shows us how to tap into ourselves, free the inner...” Pillow lips wriggled as she struggled for vocabulary. “Nora’s all about scenes, she’s always telling us to break everything into scenes, that way it’s not so huge, you can deal with it until you get the whole gestalt— that means the big picture. I think she kind of lives that way herself.”

“Scene by scene,” said Milo.

“She’s not paying attention to down here.” Pointing to the asphalt.

“Reality.”

The word seemed to bother Briana Szemencic. “All the crap below the right brain, whatever you want to call it. Nora would never hurt anyone.”

“You like her.”

“She’s helped me. A lot.”

“As an actor.”

“As a person.” Sharp little lower teeth got hold of gluteal lip and held on.

I said, “Nora’s supportive.”

“Not— it’s not that. I was real shy, okay? She helped me step out of myself. Sometimes it wasn’t fun. But it helped— can I go now?”

Milo nodded. “Reseda, huh? Valley girl?”

“Nebraska.”

“Flatlands,” said Milo.

“You know Nebraska?”

“Been to Omaha.”

“I’m from Lincoln but same difference,” said Briana Szemencic. “You stare at forever and there’s nothing at the end. Can I go now? I’m really tired.”

Milo stepped back. “Thanks for stepping out of that silent thing your friends were into.”

“They’re not my friends.”

“No?”

“No one’s anyone’s friend over there.” She glanced back at the PlayHouse. The empty porch looked gloomy. Staged for gloomy, like a movie set.

“Not a friendly atmosphere?” said Milo.

“We’re supposed to concentrate on the work.”