Gil?

Mr.

Gil, the light’s off, are you in there?” and behind his voice Lottie’s, and I understood that if I did not answer, they would not simply go home.

They would worry.

They would come back.

I have thought a great deal, since, about that knock, and about how much of what saves us is simply other people refusing to assume we are fine.

I was not in danger that night, not in the way people mean; I was a grieving old man on a floor, which is a sorrow and not an emergency.