I need three days ago to have never happened. I need to rip the threads of time and tell him Yes, I’ll come to the party. I need to have been there when he left; when they followed; when his head was held beneath the water. I need him to come home. I need them to pay. But you can’t say any of that to a stranger, not this close to Amberdeen, where everyone is someone’s second cousin once removed. So I say what I should, and leave everything else to fester.
