“We’ve learned to manage,” he said, reaching under the table and pulling out a small wooden box from under the table. From inside, he unearthed a tightly rolled joint and a lighter. He lit the tip and took a deep inhale. He closed his eyes, allowing the high to wash over him. He offered the joint to Becca. “No thanks,” Becca said. She needed to be as clearheaded as possible.

“I saw half a dozen shrinks who had all kinds of well-meaning advice. At some point, I couldn’t talk about Maureen anymore. Couldn’t analyze or discuss or second-guess everything. I had to focus on Aidan.”

“I understand. I’m just here because I want to stop her. To do that I need to understand her. Who she is? What makes her tick? What broke her?” Becca said.

“You think I have any clue? I don’t know who the hell she is. I never did.”

“You were together for a long time. There had to be signs, something that signaled Maureen wasn’t well, that she was capable of doing the terrible things she’s done,” Becca said.

“Of course there were signs. Not ones that hinted at a violent streak, but there were signs something was wrong. I see it all now. When we first met it was so subtle, kind of like LA weather. You get so used to the endless sunny days, you forget about the power of the storms. Maureen and I met in college. She was like this—this powerhouse, with all these ideas and optimism. I met her at a frat party, watched everyone, men and women, orbit around her. I told my buddy I thought she was cute and he said, ‘Go for it, man. You’ll be set for life.’ Turns out her family was loaded. I didn’t really care about her money. I grew up in Santa Monica. Raised by a single mom in a one-bedroom apartment, but I got a scholarship to Harvard-Westlake so I went to school with millionaires. I wasn’t worried. I told myself I’d make my own way. I ended up in New York for law school. I wanted to play around, enjoy the new city, have some fun. I definitely wasn’t looking to get serious. I guess Maureen saw something in me. Her first project,” he said bitterly.

“Her project? What does that mean?” Becca asked. In her head, she could hear Ash’s voice. “Stop acting like a TV shrink,” she would say. Paul didn’t seem to notice.