Chapter 10: The Threshold

I went down the back stairs in Raf's shirt, with a sheet over my arm.

He came behind me, shirtless, with a gun at his back that I pretended not to see.

I opened the street door to the length of the chain.

Paola stood on the sidewalk in the white coat with a duffel bag at her feet.

She was shaking from the cold, and her eyes were swollen.

"Carla," she whispered.

"What do you want?"

"Craig threw me out."

I said nothing.

"The bank put him on leave, and he blamed me. He said I seduced him."

Her voice cracked.

"He changed the locks, my card won't work, and I don't have anywhere to go."

"You have friends."

"They all saw the post. They think I'm a monster."

"You posted it."

She laughed, a wet and awful laugh, and wiped her face on her sleeve.

"I know what I did," she said. "I'm not asking you to say it's all right. I just need a couch for one night."

I had held her at our mother's funeral.

I had taught her to drive, and paid her rent, and covered for her at school.

I stood behind a door chain at one in the morning with her bag on the pavement.

I wanted nothing in the world as much as to open it.

"No," I said.

Her face went slack.

"Carla..."

"I paid for your car and your first month's rent."

"You wore Mom's bracelet to my husband's bed. I thought if I loved you enough, you'd learn to be someone. I was wrong."

"I was scared."

"You were bored."

Her mouth went tight.

For one second I saw all of her, small and calculating behind the red lipstick, deciding which version to use.

Then she looked past my shoulder, and her whole face changed.

"Raf."

He didn't move from the stairs.

"Raf, baby. Please. Tell her I was good to you. Tell her I made you happy."

He said nothing.

"You know I was."

She started to cry again, loudly.

"I made a mistake. I'll do anything. I'll sit at the end of the table on Sunday. I'll do the dishes."

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