She poured more water and drank it down. “Do you remember once when we called the numbers there was that girl—the roommate—who hesitated before saying no when we asked if she’d heard from Leda? It was like a millisecond but we both heard it. Remember?”

“I don’t remember half of what you remember. You know this.”

“I do.”

Sometimes Sarah and Matthew blocked their own numbers, revealed their numbers; they each did the math and traveled through time zones, imagining where Leda might be. Sometimes they called all of them—one after the other.

She began riffling through the drawer below the phone, looking for the notebook.

“Just stop, Sarah.” He sounded severe. “I need you to stop.”

The bok choy, the fish, the pot of rice. The diced avocado in the small blue bowl.

She realized she was nodding, biting her lip so hard it hurt.

“Why can’t you back off from it right now? Was it the mugging? I’m sorry you got hurt.” He put his hands on both sides of her face. “I’m sorry.”

“You are, I know you are. And I’m not sure what else I would have wanted you to do.”

“But you are sure.” He didn’t let go of her face.

“What are you talking about?”

“You wanted me to beat him up.”

“What?” She laughed. “That’s insane.”

“You wanted me to kill him.”

She shrugged off his hands. “Of course I didn’t want you to kill him.”

He backed away from her but nodded calmly. “That’s what you wanted. It’s what you still want.”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did.”

Her face flushed.

He stopped nodding.

“Fine,” she said. “Fine, I did.”

“Listen”—he leaned back on the counter—“you need to figure out what you’re going to do.”

“About what?”

“About you. About anything. Start with Caroline. You have an agent who still believes in you. She cared enough to make the suggestion.”

“Are you kidding? That’s what you think is most important right now?”

“You need to do something.” It seemed as if he’d say more, but instead he opened the refrigerator. He took out a beer and twisted off the top, let it fall to the kitchen floor. “Sarah, she’s not coming back. Maybe one day she will, but it won’t be anytime soon.”

Sarah picked up the bottle top from the floor and threw it across the kitchen.

“Jesus!” cried Matthew.

“No matter how many times you say this, I will never believe it. So you don’t need to say it anymore. You can stop. You can stop saying she’s not coming back. You can stop saying she’s gone. Do you understand?”

“I heard from her.”

“You—”

“I heard from her.”

“But you swore—”