She knocks on the back door. “It’s me,” she says to it. Sailor adds a couple of paw scratches. He’s here too, is what he’s saying.

“Hold on. Joe will unlock it for you.” Neale’s voice from the other side is faint. Cate can barely hear her.

Joe opens the door but doesn’t say anything. Sailor stands to put his front paws on Joe’s shoulders. The two of them stand like this for a while, Joe rubbing his forehead against Sailor’s.

“Did you get creepy questions from your friends?” Cate asks him, lifting Sailor from under one of his front legs and setting him back to ground level.

“We’re on Christmas break so I’ve only seen Kiera and Theo and they’d never ask a creepy question.”

A piece of memory is sliding into place.

he makes a terrible sound. his hands go to his head, which has started leaking blood. she twists the opposite way, then smacks him much harder with the extinguisher, this time with a backhand. there’s the slightest cracking sound, like that of an eggshell. then just mush.

“oh no, no.” he says this mildly, almost politely, as though there has been some mistake. more blood rushes out, a lot of it onto cate’s hands. he sways a little, then collapses sideways, onto the floor. she looks at daffy duck on his neck. the tattoo makes everything a little worse, she’s not sure why. lying still on the floor, he looks big, but now soft. his chin is recessed into fat, babyish cheeks. the rain jacket, although filthy, has hung onto its price tag. now he’s still. she’s not sure if he’s alive, dying, or dead. a new smell has come to the fore, warm, and bad. what the inside of humans smells like. for good measure, she bashes his head a couple more times. she started out just wanting him off neale. now she also wants to make sure he’s dead.

She refocuses on Joe, who is grabbing around on top of the refrigerator, for doughnuts that aren’t there.

“I’ll get some this afternoon.”

Neale is sitting on the kitchen floor with a rag and a can of a product called BludOut, rubbing in a hopeless way at a faded but stubborn stain on the linoleum. Banged up and dressed for bloodstain removal, she looks like an extra in a war movie. Her cheek is still swollen and bruised. Cate realizes that of course all of this is superficial and will dissipate. Her surgery is scheduled for next week.

Joe says, “I can walk over to the Seven-Eleven. Not a problem.” He seems relieved at the idea of getting out of the house. Weirdly, he looks older, even though it’s only been a few days since Cate last saw him.