So you either hear it or you don’t.

I don’t, I told you.

Because they fixed it.

I nodded, noncommittally. Except I could still hear it for days after they lowered the pressure, I said.

I bet you even still feel bad for Howard, she said.

He’s not the villain he’s being made out to be.

She ran her hands over her face in frustration—Mom, he brainwashed you and held you hostage.

No one was held hostage.

The nation watched you run out of that house naked and get pulled back inside.

Yes, but—

That Nora woman was tackled to the floor when she tried to escape.

I told Ashley that it was hard for her, or for anyone else who wasn’t inside that house, to understand.

This class action lawsuit against Howard, she continued. The only reason all his old students didn’t come forward sooner is because they were brainwashed. Just like you. And probably traumatized and terrified.

Ash, listen—

No, you listen, Mom. You had a complete psychotic breakdown. The whole world saw. It was on live television. You’re a fucking meme. Tits and vagina and everything. Do you have any idea—Don’t even. I—

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes for a long moment, and then looked at me—I would be so furious at you, about what you’ve done to me, if it wasn’t for the fact that mostly I feel sorry for you. You were sick. And you probably still are. A sick—

Ash—

No, shut up and listen to me. Even now, you can’t even admit it. You were under insane emotional stress, chronically under-slept for months, susceptible to brainwashing and-and God knows what else. You were not yourself.

Paul entered, dropped another box, glanced up at us, but knew better than to say anything. Ashley watched him walk back out through the door, before saying—He thinks everything can just go back to normal.

Well I hope it can, I said.

Really?

Yes.

She narrowed her eyes—I don’t even think you’re happy that it’s gone.

I told her that of course I was. I have my life back, I said.

What life?

Don’t be cruel.

What is it that you want back?

Just—

The quiet?

Yes.

Kyle?

I looked down at the floor.

I don’t think you’ve even accepted that you lost your mind, she said. She then fell quiet, perhaps waiting for me to incriminate myself somehow. What more did she want from me? My name was cleared. Charges were dropped. I had no contact with any of the other Hummers. I was working on my mental health, getting my sleep, taking my medication. Did she want me to beg for forgiveness? To grovel? To eat dust?

I lost everything else, I said.

She nodded, and looked around the living room, as if it were the inside of my mind.