After loading the box into the trunk, Paul and Kyle both looked over at me sitting in my car, and gave me polite nods as if this wasn’t the most surreal scene any of us had been privy to, as if my former student who precipitated the implosion of my marriage wasn’t helping my husband move out of my party-ravaged house. They then turned and disappeared back up the front walk. I sat there for a stunned moment, before climbing out of the car, and hurrying after them into the house.

Stepping through the front door, I noticed where there once was hardwood floor, there was now a carpet of deflated balloons, crumpled streamers, discarded corsages, and plastic cups. A framed Georgia O’Keeffe print formerly hanging near the staircase was missing, replaced by smears of god-knows-what on the walls. And the glass front of the ornamental clock in the front hall was smashed.

Morning, Ashley said from the staircase. She was wearing her PJ Harvey t-shirt and plaid boxers and was watching, with serene disinterest, as Kyle and Paul negotiated which box to lift next from the pile in the hallway. Paul turned and gave a furtive little wave, and said he had texted Ashley last night to let her know he was coming over.

But my phone died, she said, as if that were all the explanation needed.

I looked at her with what I hope she read as bewildered rage, and then back down the hall at Kyle, who flashed me an apologetic smile. His shirt was stained all down the front with what looked like cola.

What are you doing here? I asked him.

I know, I’m sorry, I—

When I saw him last night I threw my drink at him, Ashley said, sounding vaguely proud.

And then dragged me upstairs—

Well we weren’t going to have it out in front of everyone, so yeah I took him into your bedroom because—

What?

—because there were people in mine, and—

You went into my bedroom?

Our bedroom, Paul corrected.

So we could have somewhere to talk—

We agreed—

I know, I’m sorry, but we had a talk, she said, turning to Kyle. About everything that’s been happening, your little group, these meetings—

The meetings? I asked, feeling like I was scrambling up a sand pile. What, what did you say?

Nothing.

I wanted to know if he really believed, Ashley said. All this shit about the Resonance, did he really, did you really believe it? she said, looking at him.

I can literally hear it, Kyle replied. That’s like asking me if I believe in gravity.

And then I asked him what Howard wants.

Wants, I said. In what way?

Like what’s his agenda, Ashley said.

I put my overnight bag down, and steadied myself against the wall.

He’s a scientist, Kyle replied. He’s interested in the truth.