I was staring into the surface of the water when the feeling came to me, the pulse behind my forehead. It flared through my body faster than ever before, and then I tumbled into a vision, like I had hit a trip wire. Images exploded behind my eyes: the smear of streetlights, a pair of hands with little cuts around the knuckles and on the back of the palms, a dust ruffle that skimmed a few inches above a carpeted floor, the dark space underneath it dense with dirt. A sense of needing to scream, that pressure building in my throat. Then, a newborn baby’s cry, high and shrill. The next thing I knew Tom’s face was close to mine, leering, huge. I was too terrified and surprised to hide my gasp.

“Hey there, twitchy little thing, aren’t you? Don’t worry. I don’t bite. Let’s keep moving, shall we?” It took me a second to remember whose voice it was. His big teeth gleamed when he smiled. I forced myself to smile back. I was hot all over, and as we walked away, I reached down and dipped my fingers into the water, dabbed some of it on the back of my neck.

I felt exhausted, battered as though I’d taken a fall. As we walked in the direction of the restaurant, I looked back over my shoulder, to see if there was a child nearby. It actually wasn’t unusual to see a baby in the casinos, a mother perched at the edge of the gaming floor, absentmindedly pushing the stroller back and forth with her foot while she played the slots. But I didn’t see any children, only tourists posing for photos, the women making kissy faces, jutting their hips, awkward and wobbly in their too-tall heels.

Tom gave his name to the hostess, who narrowed her eyes at me, and I felt her measuring me as she studied my makeup, my hair, my dress, my heels, but she turned to Tom with a smile so wide it must have hurt. When we’d sat, Tom ordered a bottle of foreign-named red wine.

“Very good,” the waiter said, like Tom had passed a test. I wondered if men everywhere congratulated one another on such stupid, trivial things. What did people enjoy about wine? I hated the bitter taste of it in my mouth, the way it made my limbs feel looser, my attention drifty and unpredictable. That was it? The feeling that people seemed to crave?