ARLENE

“Are you alright?” she asked, and I shrugged.

“I’m feeling a lot of things right now, and I don’t think any of them can be described as ‘alright.’”

“I’m so sorry you had to endure that. How did he get in here? Where’s Matilda? Did she let him in?”

“He said that he had snuck in before she could stop him. I don’t think she knows that he was in here—she’s probably busy with work and all that.”

“What did he want? Hasn’t he done enough?” she asked, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, her disgust perceptible in her tone.

I opened my eyes and shook...