“I gave my whole heart to that man. It took me awhile, but I gave my whole heart to that man, and I loved him hard, in my own way. We relied on each other for everything. We were a family. And then we had a kid, and things became more intense than I could ever imagine feeling, and I thought, wow, at long last, after everything, I’m happy. And the worst thing happened, and I lost my daughter, and he, well, he as a man always had the urge to go find some dark cliff edge and teeter on it, right, and I pulled him back once, when he was younger, and I just didn’t have the strength to do it again. And I absolutely refused to follow him into that bleakness, that black hole. I refused.”

Harper paused a few beats to see if Amelia was done talking.

“I’m sorry,” Harper said. “About everything.”

“Me too,” Amelia said. “But you know—what are we supposed to do? What can anyone do?”

“Well,” Harper said, “life keeps going whether we like it or not.”

“You’re pretty smart,” Amelia said. “You know that?”

Harper smiled and turned away.

“You want my advice? Towns like Armin were made to be left. I wouldn’t sweat a drop over what comes out of anyone’s mouth from there,” Amelia said.

“You’re still there,” Harper said.

“Yeah, well,” Amelia said.

Amelia fiddled with the radio. The song was being lost to the static.

•••

“Your surgery was a year ago,” the receptionist said, “and this is your first appointment?”

“Yep,” Emery said.

“Well, we can see what we can do. You got insurance?”

“I should,” Emery said, passing them the insurance card he got with his pension.

“You can have a seat,” the receptionist said, gesturing toward a row of chairs.

Emery groaned as he eased himself down from the walker into the chair. The room was sterile and light blue. Magazines were neatly folded and a TV hung in the corner of the room playing a daytime talk show. A man in scrubs appeared to be scolding a box of cereal. Emery felt anxious. All this fuss for an old man. He wondered if Lulu had chewed up the laundry room where he penned her yet. Outside dogs don’t like being caged up.

“You’re a little late,” a man in a gray T-shirt tucked into athletic pants said.

“Suppose so,” Emery said.

“Well, I’m Dr. Farthing,” he said.

“Okay,” Emery said, “I’m Emery.”

“So,” Dr. Farthing said, “thankfully, we still had your file here. They sent it over after your surgery. So, most recent thing you had done was that spinal fusion surgery, right? How’s it felt since then?”

“Stiff,” Emery said.

“Okay, come back here with me,” Dr. Farthing said.