It had been the only thing I’d stared at the entire time I’d choked Ellen from the back seat of her own car, Lou’s hands holding Ellen down with all her might, her face like a slice of bone-white china in the moonlight. The entire time, while Ellen had flailed like a fish on a hook, twisting and raking at Lou’s eyes, never quite reaching her, I’d stared at Lou’s face. One, two, three, I’d counted, trying to see if I could match all the pale freckles on Lou’s nose with the count I was keeping up as I willed Ellen into unconsciousness, the seat belt wrapped around my knuckles. Making a mythology of her face as Ellen stopped struggling, until it was really and truly over.

I straightened up, breathing hard. My hands were shaking and I stared at them, counting to ten over and over in my head. I could hear the light buzzing from the bathroom, like water rushing in my ears.

I knew it was useless, but I probed under her chin for a pulse. No luck. I stared at her body, numb, the body that not an hour before, I’d been . . . I shook my head. If I let myself think about that, I’d go crazy. I wasn’t sure I wasn’t going to go crazy, anyway, but I had to get myself together. I had to think.

Lou’s body. The police on their way. If I closed my eyes and concentrated, I thought it was possible I could hear the sirens approaching.

The light buzzing from the bathroom gave me an idea. I gulped down a gag and grabbed Lou’s body under the armpits, dragging her to the bathroom. I set her carefully against the toilet and ran a bath. I didn’t have enough time to fill the tub so I pushed her in with it only halfway full. It wouldn’t fool anyone for long.

As she slipped into the water, I remembered what she’d told me once, that she couldn’t swim. I pulled her head up, above the water. Some of the blood was already drying and tacky around the split in her skull, but some of it had turned the water pink. I cradled her head in my hands and stared at her. Lou, why did you do it?

If she’d come with me when I’d first asked, we could have been halfway to Palm Springs by now. I closed my eyes. The slideshow of images of what could have been: holding her hand across the gearshift, a midnight swim. Well, she got that, I thought, and then I started to laugh; it was so horrible and perfect. My ears caught the faint wail of a siren, and I knew I wasn’t imagining it this time.