He strutted into the room and nudged a whiskey bottle to one side with his Air Jordan. Ralf recognized the model and color. A limited edition that cost four hundred dollars. Mikey also wore a red cap that looked just as exclusive as his shoes, but otherwise, Brian’s dealer was dressed unobtrusively in a dark pair of chinos and a shirt in a similar color.

Mikey stopped in the center of the room. “Where’s Brian?”

“I don’t know.”

Mikey looked at him, sizing him up. Said nothing.

“Hey, buddy, I’m looking for him too, you know. He—he isn’t answering his phone.”

“I’m not your buddy,” replied Mikey. “He was supposed to come around yesterday and pay back some money he borrowed from me.”

“Well, that’s got nothing to do with me.”

Mikey walked forward, stopping within arm’s length of Ralf. Stared at him aggressively.

Ralf shifted uneasily. Brian’s dealer had unhealthily pale skin, and his eyes sat close together and were slightly crossed. The combination gave him a bit of an alien appearance. Ralf had thought Mikey was a creep from the very first time Brian took him to Mikey’s room. He was a wackjob. Someone to steer clear of, instead of living in the same house and buying drugs from him on a regular basis, as Brian did.

“I’ll give him one more day,” said Mikey. “If he doesn’t pay by tomorrow night, then I’m charging one hundred percent interest. If he thinks he can take me for a ride, he’s wrong. You tell him that.”

Ralf opened his mouth to repeat that he didn’t know where Brian was, but Mikey had already spun on his heel and left the room.

7

7

The sun shone pale as Helen left through the staff exit. A thin veil of clouds was drifting high in the sky.

“You seemed a little off today.” Lex appeared beside her and tried to make eye contact.

Helen focused on the fork in the footpath up ahead; the bike shed was on the right, while Lex would have to turn left toward the parking lot.

“I didn’t sleep well,” she said tersely.

“Is something wrong with the kids, or with Werner?”

Just eight steps to go.

“Helen?”

She wanted to say something so badly, but it was impossible.

She couldn’t tell him anything.

Out of the question.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She went to follow the path to the right, but he put a hand on her arm to hold her back.

He did it very gently, not too insistently.

His eyes locked with hers. “Helen . . .”

“Thank you” was all she said. She looked down at the ground and hurried to the bike shed.

8

8