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“Her daughter was being bullied.”
“That caused your separation?”
“No. I called the other kid’s father.”
“Did Ms. Nilsson ask you to?”
“No.”
“Did she know you intended to?”
“No.”
“What about her daughter?”
“She asked me not to.”
“Did you agree?”
“Yes.”
“You made the call anyway.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
The answer is still exactly where it was that Sunday night.
“Because I thought stopping it mattered more.”
“Do you still believe that?”
“The bullying stopped.”
I rub my right thumb against the side of my index finger.
He waits.
I hear Tova at the door that Sunday night.
Would you?
“I don’t know.”
The officer writes.
I hate how clean the words look once somebody puts them on paper.
“Did you keep the call from your wife?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I knew she’d be angry.”
The answer is barely out before I hear Astrid.
