“Well, I was thinking I might still want to give the day program a try for now . . .”

Trevor widened his eyes as if appalled and I found myself talking faster, trying to make him understand. “Or, you know, with incidents like the guy in the parking lot,” I said. “This kind of stuff happens and when it does —”

“No, no, no,” said Trevor, waving a hand. “That guy was crazy. It’s not like he’s coming back anytime soon.”

I was startled he’d be so dismissive of the angry lunatic screaming at my sister as she hunched and rocked in Jessica’s back seat — he’d seemed so outraged by the incident after I described it to him.

“Yeah,” I said. “But still, I need to be ready for those times — when Kelli’s being stubborn and won’t get out of the car. I can’t just leave her there like Irene did — I need backup. And Kelli’s going to get sick sometimes and I might need help. This is the thing — I just need to acknowledge I need help.”

“Well, that’s what I been sayin all along,” huffed Trevor. “And you got —”

“Like, I can’t isolate myself,” I continued. “Or I’ll end up like Irene.”

It was only many hours later, going over this conversation as I lay awake in bed, that I realized I’d been practically parroting some of the things Jessica had said to me in the driveway the day before. I had thought, as I was talking to Trevor, that I had come to all these conclusions on my own, in the course of my conversation with Eleanor Mallon. But, going over it in bed, I understood that despite my fury and certainty that Jessica had betrayed me, I had actually absorbed everything she’d said. And when I met Eleanor Mallon, I knew intuitively that she would be the perfect person to confirm what Jessica had told me.

Trevor downed his rum and got to his feet and began collecting our plates off the table.

“Should I get the ice-cream going?” I asked.

“Ice-cream,” murmured Kelli in agreement.

Mike dropped the remains of his burger onto his plate as if it had scalded him. “I want some ice-cream.”

“I don’t know if we’re in the mood for ice-cream anymore,” said Trevor, yanking open the dishwasher.

Kelli and Mike uttered a simultaneous protest at this, which was not quite drowned out by the noise of Trevor clattering plates.

“Sounds like these two are definitely in the mood,” I said.

“You,” said Trevor, whirling on Mike. “I don’t wanna hear a word about ice-cream till you finish that fuckin burger.”

Mike did a thing that upset me then, for reasons I couldn’t quite pin down in the moment. It reminded me a little of when Jessica Hendy had grounded herself out in the driveway. Mike underwent a similar kind of physical transformation — but his seemed more instinctual than deliberate. Like a reflex. His features flattened out as if he were an android unplugged from its power source. His whole body went still. It was like watching a boy turn himself to stone.