Phil Parisi

I was just a few steps from her now, proceeding with the same caution I'd use if I were approaching an injured animal.

I lifted my arm toward her and turned my palm upward.

"'Yeah, let's go,' I said.

"'Right now.

Get something to eat.'

And I stood there like a statue, waiting.

They'll know I stopped, she said.

She showed no sign of rising off her knee.

So I took one more step and placed my hand gently around her upper arm.

She didn't flinch, but instead her eyes crawled over my hand untrustingly.

I said, I'll pull you out.

It won't be your doing.

See?

I'll just pull you.

And I tugged lightly on her arm.

To my great relief, she started to rise, but her trust level stayed low.

She seemed to have just met me rather than knowing me for years.

She followed my delicate pull away from her chair, and we navigated among the messy sprawl of the rest of them, over the sheets and toward the staircase.

Only there did I briefly let go of her, and gestured for her to go ahead of me, keeping one hand very lightly on her left shoulder as I followed.

"'It's not coming from inside me, it's not,' she said as we took the dark stairs back up toward the kitchen.