I remember about four seconds of it.

And I said what I said, which was: “They’re mother and daughter, Lupita.

They’ve been doing that since Daniela was thirteen.”

And she said something else, and I said something else, and then I carried a toolbox into the garage.

What she had actually said to me, which she has now told me twice in the same words and which I believe, is that she had heard my daughter crying in the driveway on three separate weekday evenings and that on one of them Daniela had sat in her car for forty minutes before going in.

Forty minutes.