The door opens on a chain, and Lucy McPherson looks out suspiciously. “Abe! What are you doing here?”

At the question Abe loses the feeling that it made sense to come to her. Lucy closes the door to undo the chain, opens it fully. She looks at him curiously, not getting it. “It’s good to see you! Here, come in—”

Abe waves a hand quickly. Lucy squints at him. She’s nice, Abe thinks, he can remember a hundred kindnesses from her when he was the new kid in Jim’s group. But in recent years he’s noticed a distance in her, a certain reserve behind her cheery politeness that seems to indicate disapproval … as if she perhaps thought Abe was responsible for whatever changes in Jim she doesn’t like. It has irked him, and a couple times he found himself wanting to say, Yes, yes, I personally have corrupted your innocent son, sure.

Random thoughts, flashing through Abe’s confusion as he sees that tiny squint of suspicion or distrust. “I—I’m sorry, Mrs. McPherson.” Say it. “I’ve got bad news,” and he sees her eyes open wide with fear, he puts a hand forward quickly: “No, not about Jim—it’s about Lillian Keilbacher. I just came from their house, and there’s no one home to tell! You know, you know I’m a paramedic.”

Lucy nods, eyes shining.

“Well,” Abe says helplessly, “I just found Lillian in a car crash we were called to. And she was dead, she’d been killed.”

Lucy’s hand flies to her mouth, she turns to one side as if bracing for a blow. It’s as bad as Mrs. Keilbacher. No, it’s not.

“My Lord.…” She reaches out hesitantly, touches Abe’s arm. “How awful. Do you want to come in and sit down?”

That’s almost too much. Abe can’t take it, and he backs up a step, shakes his head. “No, no,” he says, choking up. “I’m still on call, got to go back to work. But I thought … someone they knew should tell them.”

She nods, looking at him with a worried expression. “I agree. I’ll go get the Reverend Strong, and we’ll try to find them.”

Abe nods dumbly. He looks up into her eyes, shrugs. For a moment they share something, some closeness he can’t define. “I’m sorry,” he says.

“I’m glad you came here,” she says firmly. And she walks him back to the truck. Something in the kindness of those words, and in the fact that his task is done, breaks the restraints in Abe, he can feel the shock of it again; and he shakes hard all the way back to the station, while X drives grimly, muttering “Oh, man … oh, man…”

Back at the station they collapse on the couch. The football game mocks them.