“That is none of your business.”
“Want an aspirin?”
She nods toward the Three Wise Men I always have sitting on my bathroom vanity: Advil, Aleve and Lexapro.
I nod.
Ava flutters barefoot across the bedroom in an Olivia Rodrigo “vampire” T-shirt and cutoffs, returning with two Aleve and a glass of water.
“Thank you.”
I take the pills, drink the water and dab my mouth with the sleeve of the vintage knit shirt I passed out in. Ava retreats back to the chair.
“Strong shit,” she says, nodding toward the bottle of Lexapro.
“Life is shittier without it.” I look at her. “Where is everyone?”
“Gone,” she says. “Ron took my grandma to some store with a guy’s name...”
“Ralphs,” I say. “It’s a grocery store.”
“My grandma’s stomach was upset from the heat, so Ron took her to get some ginger ale.”
“Trudy is quite the actress. Our modern-day Shelley Winters.”
“Who?”
“Never mind,” I say with a sigh. “Just googlePoseidon Adventureone day. I only pray Trudy makes it off this ship alive. I can’t dig a hole big enough to bury her.”
“You scared me,” Ava says. “I was worried.”
“You were hoping I would die.”
“So I could inherit your caftan collection? No, thank you.”
Ava does not break eye contact with me. It unnerves me. She nods toward the bathroom.
“You know, I take it, too.”
“Advil?”
“The stronger stuff,” she says casually. “Grandma takes it, too, but it’s a secret.”
“Her life is a secret.”
“You know, finding a dead man can really fuck a girl up.”
Ava means to say this as a joke, but it comes out as heartbreak instead.
The crow outside leaps off the breeze block and hops toward the patio door. It peers inside.
“Tell me about it.”
“You first,” she says. “My grandma told me about what happened to John.”
“What did my sister put you up to?” I ask. “Are you getting something in return for information? You have no right to utter John’s name. You never knew him.”
Ava lifts her hands in a defensive gesture.
