“How long have you been doing this?”

“Six days.”

She sat down across from me.

“You want me to say something wise,” Laura said. “I don’t have anything. He’s fine and you’re not, and that’s just true, and it’s going to be true when you’re sixty.”

“That’s not wise, that’s just accurate.”

“That’s the best I’ve got at two in the morning.” She reached over and took my hand. “Here’s the only thing I know. You’ve got a fund with a hundred and eighty thousand dollars in it and a nine-year-old whose leg is going to be fine. He’s got forty-seven likes.”