She said: “I can’t do this for eighteen more years.

I’ve tried and I can’t and I’m going to be a horrible person about it instead of a dead one.”

And I said: “Then go.”

I said that.

Two words, at the door, with a baby on my shoulder.

For about eleven years I did not include those two words when I told this.

Not consciously — I would get to the door and the story would go to the door slamming, and the two words would not be in it.

Odile put them back in.