On the TV screen whereShadow of a Doubtis playing, Uncle Charlie offers his niece, Charlie, an emerald ring. (Why are both characters named Charlie? To Talia, this seems needlessly confusing.) She squeezes Townsend’s right hand in hers, realizing something as she does so.
“Hey, what happened to your ring?”
“What ring?”
Talia pulls his hand closer to her face to inspect it. “You used to wear a gold ring.” She traces a loop around his bare ring finger. “Right here. You don’t wear it anymore.”
“No, I guess not,” Townsend says. She can hear annoyance in his voice. He doesn’t like talking during movies—unless, of course, it’s to discuss the movie.
Just then, something strikes the door so loudly and unexpectedly that Talia and Townsend both jump.
“Was that your door?”
There’s another bang, even more insistent this time. Townsend untangles himself from Talia and crosses the room in three steps. He looks through the peephole, and Talia thinks she sees his spine stiffen, just a little. Then he opens the door to reveal two police officers, standing side by side as though to block any means of escape.
“Good evening,” says the one on the left, a tall Black woman. “I’m Detective Harris, and this”—she gestures to her partner, a hulking white man—“is Detective Burrows. We’re with the Austin Police Department.”
“Good evening.” Townsend nods, looking much calmer than Talia feels. Being this close to a police officer always makes her palms sweat, even when she’s done nothing wrong. “How can I help you?”
“We’re looking for Townsend Fuller.”
“He is me. I mean, I am him.” A cough escapes from Townsend’s throat; his composure is slipping.
“Right. May we come in?”
“Please.” He steps aside, and the two officers file into the room. Talia quickly moves to the far end of the sectional, making room forHarris and Burrows to sit on the other end. Should she introduce herself? Excuse herself? Offer them drinks? The etiquette rules for this situation aren’t obvious to her.
And clearly she misreads the situation, as the detectives continue to stand. Once it becomes evident that this is intentional—they’re choosing to hover above Talia as she cowers on the pristine white sectional below them—Townsend asks again, “So how can I help you?”
“Is it okay if I stay?” Talia doesn’t mean to blurt this out, but she does. When everyone turns to look at her, she adds, “Sorry.”
Harris pulls out a pad of paper and leans forward. It seems she and Burrows have decided she’ll take the lead. “Your name?”
“Talia Danvers.”
“And your relationship to Mr. Fuller?”
“I’m his ...” Talia pauses to glance at Townsend. She’s never actually said this word out loud in front of him before.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Townsend says, rejoining her on the couch. The word sends an unexpected flutter through her chest.Girlfriend.
“Right.” Harris scribbles this down.
Talia is tempted to ask again whether it is, in fact, okay for her to sit in on this conversation, but she resists the urge.
“Mr. Fuller, we don’t want to take up too much of your time,” Harris continues. “We just want to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay. What about?”
“Do you know an Amanda Reade?”
Amanda Reade. That name feels like a blow to the head. Talia keeps from letting out an involuntary gasp.
“I ... yes. I do.” Townsend is avoiding her eyes. It’s clear he doesn’t want to discuss Amanda Reade any more than she does.
“And how do you know Ms. Reade?”
Talia thinks of the various ways Townsend could answer this question:I met her on Cuff while I was still in a relationship. I fucked her behind my girlfriend’s back. I allowed her to ruin everything.
