I crept to the back of the complex and watched Ellen’s light go on after a few minutes. She stopped in the kitchen and poured herself a glass of white wine. I squinted up at her face—no makeup. Hair tied back in a ponytail. I couldn’t be sure, but I didn’t think she’d been with Klein. For one thing, she was sipping, not bolting, the wine.

Ellen disappeared into the back of her apartment, out of sight. I wondered how long to wait, but she reemerged almost immediately in her skivvies, a peach wedge of rayon barely covering her butt, matching skimpy triangles holstering her dark nipples. Still sipping the wine, she bent over and came up with a black dress. Even from the street, I could see the sparkle of it. Ellen held it up to herself, smoothing it down her front. Sucking in her nonexistent gut. She made a face and dropped it and picked up another—a hot-pink number. With feathers. It almost would have been worth breaking my surveillance to call her, tell her to return the pink monstrosity this minute, no way was the Lady’s money going to pay for that disaster of a dress.

While I sat there and watched, Ellen tried on a few more outfits and, although I couldn’t see them, new shoes, too, judging by the way she changed heights. All party clothes.

I tried to picture the new life she was filling with couture and spandex and sequins. Maybe she imagined cocktail parties on Klein’s arm—the memory of me, and the photographs, and what she’d done and who’d she been while doing it, long behind her. A stepping-stone, unpleasant but necessary, to this upgraded life.

Ellen would be free once we’d closed Klein. Nothing tied her to us. She’d be free and clear to put it all aside and go back to her normal life. But it wouldn’t be stardom she’d be returning to. She’d spend more time telling people she was an actress than booking jobs, and instead of rich producers, she’d be half-heartedly screwing nice bag boys she met at the corner store. It would be a blessing when they never called her back—she’d never realize how boring all those nice boys were. But she’d be devastated anyway. That’s what waits for you on the other side, Ellen, without me, I thought. That’s what you’re so eager to rush back to.