“I wasn’t there both times,” said Jessica. “The first time she got sick was the first time we got together, remember? For lunch. You —”

“Yes, but I told you about it. And you were there the night she puked.” I was furious that she would even be arguing with me, that she wouldn’t just admit what we both knew to be true. “You wanted me to take her to the ER. And it was the same thing the day we left her in the car — you were questioning me and judging me the whole time.”

“I wasn’t judging.” Jessica looked steadily into my eyes and spoke low, as if I was some skittish, flailing animal she was attempting to coax into a pen. “I just genuinely wasn’t sure what was best. And I promise you, I didn’t report anything to anyone. But, Karen, I did talk to some people.”

“Who?” I demanded. “And why are you talking about us at all?”

“Friends,” said Jessica. “Just — people who know about home care and disability services around town —”

“Well, thanks a lot. One of your friends called Adult Protection and they’re coming over tomorrow to decide whether or not to take Kelli away.”

Rather than deny it, Jessica glanced away from me and took a breath. In that moment, I could see her make the decision to stop playing defence. “What are you going to do?” she asked, turning back to me.

“We’ll deal with it,” I said, crossing my arms. “Trevor is helping me.”

Jessica glanced uneasily at the house. “Karen, why is this guy still around?”

“Because,” I said, “he was good to my mother. And he’s good to Kelli.”

“Did you get the key back?”

The question sent the blood surging into my face all over again. “I already told you I was getting the key back! Trevor’s not the issue here!”

I watched as Jessica attempted to re-ground. She squared her shoulders. “I’ve been meaning to tell you — I heard some stuff about the outfit this guy works for.”

I stared at her. “What stuff?”

“Did you know these companies aren’t regulated?”

“Of course they’re regulated. They’re government —”

“No, they’re not government. They’re contracted by the government. And some are more above-board than others.”

“I can’t believe this!” I shouted. What I actually couldn’t believe was all the shouting I was doing. I hadn’t even shouted when my marriage broke up — not once that I could remember. There’d been muttering, whispering, gasping, and sometimes sloppy, quiet sobbing. Hissing too, when things got heated. But I didn’t remember ever raising my voice. Basically the entire experience had been funereal. But now I was wishing I’d done some shouting after all over those long, grey months of negotiating his departure. There was something exhilarating about it — so much so that I was a little worried I wouldn’t be able to stop. The idea of having to stop — of the adrenalin draining away as I knew eventually it must, leaving me spent and sad at Jessica’s betrayal as opposed to raging and self-righteous like a Valkyrie — was too depressing to think about. Maybe this will just be who I am from now on, I thought distantly. I tried for a second to imagine what the rest of my days would be like — gleefully, furiously biting the heads off friends and strangers alike.