I feel a pang of guilt, stressed that I haven’t done enough work on Hilbert’s portrait. Shelley wants us to stay productive, to work every day, to produce. It keeps us young and gives us a purpose. I need to get back to it today. I shouldn’t waste the morning sleeping in like I have.

I should get dressed. I should eat. I should paint.

There it is, the portrait of Hilbert, sitting on my desk, incomplete. How did it get on my desk? I walk closer to it, putting my cardigan on over my nightie. When did I last work on it? It looks… different. He looks different.

I feel goose bumps on my arms and then someone’s stare locking on to me from behind. I swivel around, but there’s no one else here. I’m alone.

I open my dresser drawer. I find the napkin I brought back from dinner last night and unwrap it. Inside are the two pieces of carrot. There is a tiny, dark patch of mold starting to grow on one of the carrots. I close the napkin and drop it in the garbage and sit on the bed.

“Morning, Penny,” Jack says, walking in.

I look at Jack, trying to decide what to say. What should I tell him? Should I tell him I’m starting to understand what’s actually happening here? That I’m starting to realize the extent of Shelley’s infatuation with living and production? Doing it together. Just like a forest. All the same. Linked. It’s happening here. Inside. With us. Within us.

Jack sits down on the bed beside me.

“I was in my same apartment for more than fifty years,” I say. “I had friends over during that time, for meals and parties, but most of the time it was just me and him. I didn’t want to have children. He did. We argued about it. Once, we had a huge fight. It’s becoming hard to remember most of it.”

“I know what that’s like. That’s why a place like this is right for both of us. Forgetting the past isn’t always the worst thing.”

“Doesn’t it scare you? Not being able to remember parts of your life?”

“I would be more scared if I had to remember everything, all the time,” he says. “Shelley believed enough to give me a chance when I’d used up a lot of chances already. It was a fresh start for me. Just like it was when you got here. We both are lucky to be part of this.”

“This?”

“This house,” he says. “Six Cedars.”

1—2—3—4—5—6.

“What do you know about the forest out there?”

“It’s very peaceful,” he says.

“You see, now you sound like Shelley. I want to know about it. How big is it? What else is out there? Does it surround the entire house? Does it go on forever? I feel like I can see trees from every window. I never get to be out there. Do you?”

“Why are you asking me all this, Penny?”