She goes and she makes coffee, thinking how to handle this without tearing the rest of their world down. Then, as she is stirring sugar into her cup, she hears car doors slam, voices raised in anger.

Iris goes to the window. She sees, two houses down, Ned standing by Danielle’s car, apparently having slammed a door, and Gordon on a phone in the driveway, pacing, angry.

By Gordon’s feet she sees a suitcase, which Ned picks up and puts into the trunk while Gordon raises his voice.

She heads out the front door, coffee cup in hand. Down to the circle, across the pavement.

Ned sees her coming and freezes. Gordon has his back to her. “I am asking you to help my boy. You helped us before… I’ll pay, even. Double. I’m just…”

And then he senses her approach, like Iris’s anger is a shock wave traveling ahead of her. He says, “I’ll call you back.” He listens for a moment, then disconnects the phone.

“Going somewhere?” she asks, her voice calm.

“To a hotel,” Gordon says. “It was a mistake to stay here. It’s too emotional for Ned.”

“Not the airport? Not running to London, or Ghana, ahead of the law?”

“We have no reason to run.”

“My daughter’s in jail because she tried to help Ned. And of course he’s abandoning her.” She glances at Ned. “You’re nearly a man. It’s time for you to decide what kind of man you want to be.”

His gaze meets hers, and then he looks away.

“Who was Marland? How did you get involved with him?” She tries to keep the fury out of her voice.

“He’s not answering your questions.”

Ned looks at her. “He approached me.”

“Who was he, though? Did she know him in Russia?”

“Russia? What does he have to do with Russia?”

“But why you? Why?”

“I don’t know. He was a friend of a friend.”

“But who was he? Where did he live?” Ned tries to look away from her again, and she gently but firmly puts her hand on his chin and turns his face back toward her. “Please. If you ever cared about Julia, ever, show me now. Please tell me.”