Neighbors’ lights were coming on. Soon, the cops might arrive.

“Why would I say that?” countered Sarah. “Apologize to him.”

“You want me to apologize to your husband.”

“That’s not my husband.”

“But—”

“This is my husband.” She took Matthew’s arm.

“Ah, I get it.” The man pointed to Matthew. “You. You are seriously fucked.”

Matthew only said, “Get out of here.”

“And burn your flag,” Sarah said. “That flag makes me sick.”

“My grandfather gave me that flag.”

“Oh, I’m sure he did.”

“It’s Russian navy. You think this is the first time I heard this ignorant shit? It’s a similar design but it’s not a Confederate flag and I’m not taking it down. I’m no racist.” The man cast a glance at each of them and landed on Sarah. “I came here—Jesus—I wanted to protect you.”

“To protect me?” She looked straight into the man’s eyes, which were light and strange, with flat dark lashes and a thick brow. She stood up taller and didn’t look away. “No.”

“Sarah,” Matthew demanded. “You need to tell us what’s going on.”

In the dark, looking so lost, she could imagine him older—no, old: exposed scalp and loose skin and memory fully shot.

“I met him today,” she said matter-of-factly. She knew enough to know she couldn’t afford to appear sheepish. “We met in the woods while you were swimming.”

“Right,” Matthew said. “Of course you did.”

“He must have seen my cut and bruises and … I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

The man muttered something, then walked away. They stopped their arguing to watch him. Just like that: he made his way toward the street—gone.

Kiki and Arman went inside.

“I was upset,” Sarah finally said, turning her attention from Kiki and Arman to Matthew. “I was really upset. I think the mugging … Look, with that guy—I was evasive.”

“Did you lie?”

“I may have.” She nodded. “Sometimes I feel like lying to everyone about everything.”

The man appeared on the footbridge and they watched him slowly cross it. He entered the dark house and turned on a light.

“Do you never have that impulse?” she asked.

Matthew looked up at the burned-out-negative clouds before finally shaking his head. “What I think of as my life—I think it’s over.”

She nodded.

“So I guess,” Matthew continued, “I’d like a new one. A new life.”

“Without me.” Dawn was coming. Violets and browns were outpacing the darkness; she wasn’t ready.

“Not you like this.”

She nodded, feeling calmer than she had any right to. “I’ve never thought of myself as someone who blows it all up.”

“I’ve never thought of you like that either. But … people change.”

She swallowed, hard. Would he actually leave? She thought of the man on the subway.