“He”—I laugh, thinking of the story—“it’s awful, I shouldn’t laugh. He was pretending with his stuffed rabbit, Flip Flop, trying to cook with him, but it was a gas stove, and Flip Flop caught on fire and then Grayson knocked over the box of pasta and then tried to put it out with oil—”

“Terrible.”

“He only told me because we were together. I mean, and he was also on peyote at the time.”

“When he was thirteen?”

“When he told me.”

“Ah. So you reckon,” she says, “I should call up famous movie star Grayson Gamble out of the blue and suggest that when he was a little too old to be playing with dolls, he might have burned down his family home.”

“Maybe that’s too mean.”

“There must be a way you can prove”—she puts air quotes around the word prove—“this, without retraumatizing a man.”

“You’re right.” I breathe in deeply. “You must be right.”

“As usual,” she says quietly, fidgeting with her nails.

Then I think of it.

“I know what I can do!”

“Go ahead then.” She takes a sip of coffee.

“There’s this show called Brilliance.”

“Duh. Love it.”

“You’ve seen it?” So it does air here. Good to know.

“Have I seen it? I watched the first season twice. I thought you hated that show.”

“Do I?”

The Me-Who-Lives-in-Avalon seems to hate all the things that make up my entire life back in California.

“You do. Anyway, carry on.”

“The finale hasn’t aired yet. It airs…” I glance at my watch. “Tonight, right?”

One of the soapiest aspects of our show is that we broke modern tradition and have almost thirty episodes a season, and when we shoot it, we air it almost immediately, like traditional soaps. It’s one of the things that got people’s attention. I know the inside scoop, which is that the writers wanted to be able to change the show if something was or wasn’t working. Which has been hell for line memorization, but worked well for keeping the attention of our fans.

“Yes, it airs tonight.”

“I know exactly what happens. I know every line. Well, all of my lines.”

“Your … lines?”

“Right! You don’t know. I play Daphne.”

“Kim Wong plays Daphne.”

“Yes, but in my world, Kim plays Velma.”

“Jordan Levinson plays Velma.”

“She does? The weird girl from those banned tampon commercials?”

“The what?”

“Never mind, it doesn’t matter—this is the perfect thing. I can tell you my entire monologue at the end when—”

She plugs her ears. “Ah! Ah! No spoilers!”

“I’m sorry,” I say. Then, “So you are starting to believe me.”

She exhales, furrowing her brow at the ground. “Am I?”

Hope lifts within me.