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57 F I had chosen the house where Z died. Z and I needed somewhere to work, A didn’t like having everything in her basement . She’d started getting paranoid: pulling at curtains that were already drawn, wondering out loud too often about the neighbors—should she plant more trees along the property line, did her mother still have a spare key? A had gone back to school by then, determined, this journalism program I didn’t see the point of, but she was going to every class. She slipped out in the morning without talking to me. Class was really good today, she’d say later. She would take out a book but then I’d find her lying on the floor next to the dog, making cat’s cradles with the yarn I used for my maps. I’m using that, I’d say, and we’d fight like children. She went to bed early, library books tossed on the floor next to the bed where they’d be most in the way. This is the right thing for me, can’t you understand that, she’d say if I laughed at her as in the morning she was late to class, looking for her notebooks and pen. 58 The right thing—this was always what she said. So Z and I looked for a place, somewhere cheap, few neighbors . He insisted it be in his name. • They questioned me while I watched them pull him from the house, or the shape of him, covered. I almost just explained everything, everything I could have explained. What did you tell them? A asked me afterward, over and over. Nothing, I said, which wasn’t enough for her. I don’t know what to say, I had said to them, a few times. Had you seen any of this material in the house? they asked. No, I said—then thought to add: But I don’t know if he ever let anyone in the basement. Were you familiar with his online magazine? Pretty radical stuff. Not really, I said. I mean, I looked at it, sure. Maybe I even shrugged. There was a computer in there, I said, watching the smoke behind them. But can they retrieve anything—? A asked after. No, I said. I was careful. And later they showed me the laptop, a grotesquely dimpled shell. You can go home, they said, we can talk to you later, go on home. I went to A’s. I cleaned everything that was left out of A’s basement, dragged it down to the stream to burn or bury it. By the morning Vivienne was sitting as usual in her chair in the corner, Sara on the floor, holding her hand. [18.118.32.213] Project MUSE (2024-04-25 14:00 GMT) 59 Seems like there isn’t really a way to prove anything, Sara said. The way he did it, Vivienne said, he meant to take all the credit— Credit? A said. Credit? I meant blame, Vivienne said. I meant—you know what I meant. That we’d be free of it. It’s true, you can’t say it’s not. Vivienne leaned toward me, but didn’t touch me. ...

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