“Tell him what you can. Maybe a G-rated version. You know him. What he can stand to hear.”

“Hey. You know. Here’s the big thing. We’re alive. We’re going to be okay.” What Cate doesn’t mention is the strong breeze rushing through her, pushing her a little aloft. This is about knowing that what just happened will bring the two of them so much closer.

On her way down the stairs, she thinks, Maureen. Shit. Cate was supposed to get together with her after yoga. Yoga seems so long ago, a country from which her ancestors emigrated, someplace on a folded and refolded map. As she calls, she imagines Maureen’s phone dark and silent on the nightstand, Maureen glaring at it. When she answers, Maureen sounds alert as a sentry. Cate abbreviates, condenses, although that’s not easy, given how much has happened.

“I’ll be right over.”

“What I need more is for you to go over to Neale’s.” She gives Maureen the address. “My car is out back. The extra key fob is inside the armrest. I know, I know that’s stupid.” Then, “Can you drive it over here?”

In the corner of the dead cafeteria, Joe says, “I heard you killed the guy.”

“I tried to kill him. I don’t think he’s dead yet. I didn’t have a very good weapon. I grabbed the fire extinguisher on the way in. I don’t remember everything that happened. Big chunks seem to be missing.”

“Yeah, I saw the floor.” He’s eating his third microwaved machine cheeseburger. Cate gets one for herself, and a Coke. The two of them are alone in a room that has a desperate level of cheer to it. The murals are an underwater world of colorful cartoon fish.

“Let’s get going, what do you say? Come home with me. Maureen’s picking us up. Graham will be at the apartment. And Sailor. I think if I put you on the sofa, he’ll sleep with you. I know there’s a lot to think about, but tonight we all need to get some sleep. We’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”

She’s a little surprised when he says, “Okay.”

Downstairs, in the teal hospital lobby (walls, chairs, carpet, even a tealish air-freshener) next to a giant statue of a saint who appears to have hammered things, Maureen is waiting. She pulls Cate into a crushing hug, then reaches to put a hand on Joe’s shoulder. She doesn’t bother to say anything. What, really, could she say?