Teresa’s discomfort, the staff’s wariness, my own instincts, Vanessa’s own words about the people who served me, all of it had been available to me for months, free of charge, and I had declined to look, not because I could not but because looking was inconvenient to the pleasant story I was telling myself.

I do not think I get to call that innocence.

I think, at best, I get to call it a lesson, paid for by someone else, which is the most expensive kind there is.

Chapter 6 — Locking the Door

I walked to the heavy front door, turned the deadbolt, and took out my phone to call for help.

“Who are you calling?” Vanessa demanded, and for the first time there was an edge of genuine alarm under the composure.

“An ambulance,” I said, “and the police.” “Don’t be ridiculous.