“Right.”

“Are you okay?”

“Can I call you back?”

He paused before asking, “Octavia’s there?”

“Yes, I’ll get back to you later.”

“Hang in there, Toni!” Megan called out.

She hung up and stared into space.

“Go ahead and sit down,” said Octavia, from the kitchen. The hollow thump of an empty bottle hit her trash can. Antonia obeyed her sister and returned to the couch. “Now lie down.”

She lay back. “I’m not your patient.”

Octavia returned to the living room and flung open the curtains. “No, you’re not. I had to cancel an appointment with an OCD mama’s boy to come over here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re like Mom, still believing black folks don’t need therapy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Go ahead and fix me then, Dr. Freud.”

“No, that’s your job. I’m just here to listen.” Octavia sat down in Antonia’s favorite reading chair and crossed her legs. She put on her therapist hat, her face becoming a blank mask that Antonia struggled to interpret. Octavia looked more like their father. Her skin was deep cocoa and virtually unflawed despite her years. Her dark almond-shaped eyes were inscrutable as they were mysterious. When they were children, Antonia remembered her older sister as the one who observed more than she spoke. Octavia’s quiet strength was a deep well which carefully tended to Antonia’s constant anxiety.

“Where the hell do I start?” Antonia asked, her voice climbing. Tears threatened to return. “I’ve just lost my fiancé and apparently my job.”

“Start from the beginning with Derek,” Octavia said in a soothing voice. “I can tell you that when he called me, he was almost hysterical.”

Antonia frowned. “What did he say happened last night?”

Her sister shook her head and shrugged. “I couldn’t get a clear picture; he didn’t make much sense. He was going on and on about you canceling the wedding, the money it was going to cost him, that sort of thing. I tried to ask him for details, but he was evasive.”

“He left out a huge chunk of last night’s events,” she said through a clenched jaw. Antonia hugged her arms around her body and slowly relayed everything that she remembered from last night. She managed to get through the story without breaking down, which she considered her first win of the day. Progress. All throughout, Octavia remained quiet, nodding only once in a while. Had she her notepad, she probably would have been writing notes. When Antonia finished, she looked over at her sister. “What do I do?”

Octavia drew a deep breath and asked, “What would you like to do?”

“I’d like to kill Derek.”

Her sister nodded with a smile. “That’s fair,” she said before adding, “It’s good that you’re being honest about your anger. I was worried that your first impulse was to turn inward.”

“I did drink an entire bottle of wine.”

“Yes, but you won’t do that again.” Octavia leaned forward in her seat. “Are you sure you didn’t know about Derek and his... Naomi?”