I saw my mother sitting at the keyboard in our wooden house, her blond hair pulled back, her hands slightly chapped from the new cold. The last dry October leaves were stripping themselves from the trees outside. I saw the bareness that was coming for her and my father, their three children grown, their careers winding down, and the slow grip of age tightening around them. Listening to Ray describe Cal’s loss had made me appreciate my family. What luck to be harbored by my steady, generous parents and brothers for all my childhood, to be unmistakably loved.

I thanked my mom and named my days. It felt like an insurance policy. Whatever happened to me that night, the ticket would be waiting for me when I got home. My mother wouldn’t hesitate to buy it, to cement my return.

THEN RAY CALLED. “WHERE ARE you? I went by the gallery.”

I told him I was heading to Nelson’s house, at Pearson’s invitation. “We bonded while I helped him and Erik carry the shoes,” I said. “I think my willingness to do grunt work disarmed him.” Then I added, “I’m not done, Ray. I don’t care if Janis fires me.”

“I know,” he said.

A silence fell between us.

“I ever tell you what Pearson’s felony was for?” he said.

“You said he assaulted someone.”

“He was at a party. A guy spiked his soda with acid. A prank. When Pearson came down from the trip, he found out and beat the guy within an inch of his life. With his bare fists.”

“That’s awful,” I said. “Why are you telling me now?”

“Just be on your toes,” he said, then hesitated. “What did you want to give me, anyway?”

I told Ray about finding the DVD, watching it, and seeing Nelson and Calvin together in it, and said that I had the DVD with me.

“You took it from the library?”

“I wanted you to see it.”

“You should always put things back,” he muttered. “You never know who is watching.”

It took me a moment to understand.

“You’ve already seen the video,” I said slowly. “You already found it there.”

“I spent a couple of days at LAAC last week,” he admitted. “That’s how I knew where Brenae’s studio was.”

“So you know that your brother met Nelson de Wilde. On the night before he died.”

“I do.”

“But then what are you—”

“Waiting for? I was looking for someone named Genevieve, but I don’t know who she is.”