I want to explain that, because it became the central fact of the next eighteen months and because my reason at the time was not the reason I later claimed.

The reason I later claimed — to a detective, to my parents, to myself, for about four months — was that I knew Perla would tell me to wait.

The actual reason, which I have since recovered and which is less flattering and much more ordinary, is that I did not think of it.

I had a screaming infant with a leg that was not moving, and something in me went into a mode I recognize from work, which is the mode where the only thing that exists is the next required action.

I did not deliberate and I did not weigh anything and I did not have a thought about my sister at all.