The fed’s asking me what happened. And if I’m all right and if …

I close my eyes, because even looking at her is draining me. I push my chin into my hands and my elbow into the table and try not to cry.

Annie comes home. I hear her voice in the hallway, loud and confident. Annie asks about Blake, then she asks about me. She comes into the kitchen and I want to open my eyes, but now I’m too tired to even do that. Annie tells me she’s taking Blake to the hospital. I wonder if he’s still got the tea towel wrapped around his hand. Annie will have to leave it at the hospital. It’s too nasty to bring home.

Home. Annie’s home. Blake’s home. Not mine, because I know what’s gonna happen next.

“We need to take you to the police station,” the fed says.

I force myself to open my eyes and stand up. I look through the small room to the hallway. Annie’s opening the front door and Blake has his back to me.

I want to yell at Blake, “You’ve got your old room back! Happy now?”

I do yell, “Happy now?”

Annie looks at me, then away again.

*

I go upstairs to pack some things because I know how this works.

The policewoman comes with me. Maybe she’s worried that I’m gonna escape through a window or something. She stands in the doorway trying to make polite conversation, but I don’t answer. All I can think about is that I’m not coming back here.

I don’t want no one else packing my stuff. Last time, I had to throw away eight balls of yarn because they were all shoved together in a plastic bag and got knotted. This time, I leave the wool. What’s the point? I’m not gonna see Kandi any time soon. Maybe not ever again. Because I did it. I stabbed Blake. The needle was in my hand and I brought it down fast and hard. Blake was screaming and swearing. The needle stayed there, balancing in the skin between his finger and thumb before he pulled it out. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to cry. But I called for an ambulance instead.

I go with the policewoman to the car. The other car’s gone already. She and her police mate chat to each other in the front as they’re driving. The radio cuts in and out. I close my eyes again and let it all mix up. The sounds are like different colour wool knotted up and tangled together. I open my eyes and grab the seat and try to make my head as empty as I can.

*