And maybe, if the judge shows any signs of understanding, she will then say, I am alone, or Harvey is driving me crazy with all of his fears, or Now I am terrified at night, too. Or maybe she could show how sometimes she doodles while the judge pauses or someone takes a long time to answer a question. She could show how it looks like she just drew a little picture, when really it says: I am, I am, I can, I can. Marks, curves, horizontal, perpendicular. She learned Teeline, which some think is faster, but it looks so loud and harsh to her; she prefers Gregg, enough loops to soften and lower the volume. I can be good. I am good. Fuck whoever doesn’t think so.

If Shelley were in a movie, she would pay attention to that old man appearing out of nowhere and saying he wants to see inside her house. There would be creepy music every time he rides by. A lot of the people she has seen convicted have at first seemed nice and normal. There was a serial killer who was also a religious grandmother. A special ed teacher teaching things that should never be taught. A preacher with purification rituals that involved children taking off their clothes. The last time the old man showed up at the door was when school was still in session and she was having to battle every day to make Harvey go. The man said he understood and he would keep trying; he gave her his phone number, and then he disappeared for a while and she thought maybe he’d forgotten, but lately she has seen his car again. He says he just wants to see inside once more and to wander around the yard, but the whole thing unnerves her. If she really thought he would look once and go away forever, she might, but there’s almost always a string attached. Nothing is that easy. He might be trying to buy that house back from her landlord, and where would that leave her?