Jenna arrived within the hour without asking me to be brave. She photographed my wrist and scalp, drove me to urgent care, and sat beside me while a nurse recorded everything in a careful, emotionless hand. At dawn, I returned home alone. Daniel unlocked the kitchen door so I could begin cooking, and I did, but I made only one thing. A pot of plain chicken soup.

At noon, twenty-six guests filled the room, and Margaret wore the blouse I had paid for. I placed the soup in front of her and told everyone it was the only feast I owed anyone. Then I pressed play. Daniel’s voice filled the room, followed by Margaret’s laughter behind the locked door. Nobody touched their forks. Daniel reached for my phone, but Jenna’s colleague stepped between us. Click continue reading below