This happens in court all the time, the accusation, the need to plead your innocence, even when in the back of your mind there are all those worries and fears that you might be guilty after all, that there might be bits of proof. She wasn’t an older mother, but she probably did have a drink or two before she knew she was pregnant with Harvey; they said it all happened in those early weeks, one in seven hundred, they said, and there you are, the upper lip not fully formed. “It’s such an easy repair these days,” the doctor had said. “One surgery might do it.” He spoke so gently she barely heard him, but she allowed herself to keep thinking, Easy, easy. It’s so easy. But Harvey doesn’t think it’s easy. If he did, he wouldn’t wear masks all the time, a whole series of battered Halloween masks, from an alien to a Ninja Turtle, and he wouldn’t wear those fake mustaches or hold his hands up to his face whenever he laughs to hide the thin scar there.

When Shelley lived in Atlanta and had to wear that steno mask, she couldn’t help but think of things like Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs or, and maybe even worse, that someone else had worn it, their breath trapped there. These days, it is hard enough to breathe about a lot of things, like this trial and Brent being long gone. She has to remind herself, because she has told Harvey “He’ll be back” so many times, it’s easy to believe it herself. But that isn’t true, and someday Harvey will need to know the truth, just not today, because he is driving her nuts, and what mother says that about her son? He is only six. Harvey is only six. Of course it is hard to concentrate on the trial and getting every detail just right. Paper and pencil are always best, always her first choice, but the keypad is also fine. Either way, her hand or fingers moving, letters shaping. Listen to the words, only the words. If she listens to the words, she can sometimes hit 300 words a minute; her average is 250. The world record is 360, so no one else around here can even come close to what she can do. That is what she has going for her; there are others who are good, but no one is better. She writes, I am the best. She writes, I can, I can, I can.