Eventually, it was almost lunchtime. I’d watched the neighbours come and go throughout the morning — cars being ejected from garages, cats being let out and then let in. Noel emerged from his own garage on a ride-on mower and sat like a general on horseback as he putt-putted in circles across his lawn. It turned out Marilyn stayed home on weekdays; she emerged to do some gardening and banter with Noel for a few moments before both went back to their yard work.

Maybe, I thought, if I pretended along with Trevor that all this was normal and fine, he’d start to actually believe it as opposed to trying to force it into being, and therefore relax his grip on us a little. So I tried suggesting we go for a walk — all three of us — thinking I could wave to someone if we did, maybe stop and say hi to good-neighbour Marilyn, for example, who, I recalled, had been so alert to danger the night that Mr. Gill’s garage was broken into. And Trevor wouldn’t be able to do anything about it, to do anything to Kelli, because we’d be in public.

This was my lone gambit, after hours of mostly nodding and blank-minded panic. I asked, the inside of my mouth feeling gluey, if Trevor wasn’t getting restless from all the sitting? Kelli, I said, would probably love a walk before lunch — her bad knee could use a bit of exercise and I could too, come to think of it, and look what a lovely, long-shadowed end-of-summer day it was.

“Ah, now, Karie,” said Trevor. “We haven’t even got started on this whole thing.”

Since breakfast had been heavy, I opened a couple cans of soup. Normally I’d throw together a salad, but I didn’t want to antagonize Trevor with rabbit food. I buttered some buns and Trevor set the table, but when we called Kelli to come and get it she didn’t budge. Trevor went to the doorway to check on her.

“Coming, Beaner?”

“No,” said Kelli, staring at her lap again.

“Let’s go,” he said, clapping his hands. “Gonna be hungry later.”

“No Trebie no,” said Kelli. She bent forward and started to hum.

“She’s just being stubborn,” I said. “She’ll ask for a snack in an hour or so.”

Trevor frowned but, after a moment, returned to the table. “Don’t like seeing our girl go hungry.”

Afterwards, tucking the leftovers away in the fridge, I pretended that something just occurred to me. “We’re low on a few things,” I said. “Should maybe grab some groceries today.”

“I can pick ’em up tomorrow,” said Trevor. “We got enough to get us through till then.”

Not knowing what else to do, I filled the kettle. Now that we were in the kitchen, I felt a little more secure — I felt like I wanted to keep him here, away from Kelli, even though I knew he could bolt into the living room at any time and be at her chair again in a few quick strides.