“Do you remember Mimi?” I blurted out. “...My dog?” “Do you remember how you always left the patio door open even though your mother told you to close it? And when Mimi ran through chasing the ball, it was too late to save her?” She became silent. “Do you remember when you left home to be with a boy who turned out to control your whole life? And how you still haven’t contacted your mother because you’re bitter about how protective she was of you?” I heard her get up off the ground. “No, I’m too drunk for this!” I heard her begin to weep. “I need to go to sleep.” I didn’t care anymore whether she was listening to me or not. “Now I live in a rundown apartment building, isolated for most of my days. I had to 昀椀nd a new job, which I have no passion for. I don’t have anyone, and I’m too afraid to call those who I know. I’m still traumatized by what happened half a year ago.” “That is none of my concern,” she expressed with insolence. I thought how content she had been in life up to this point. “Well, it’s going to be.” “You need to stop talking to me like we’re the same person.” I heard her mouth close to the vent. “I’ve made too much progress to care about the mistakes of your past. Even if it was my past, why should any of that matter any longer? I’ve worked so hard to live here, to earn this career, to become independent. And you? Well, you’re a coward. You do nothing but spend your days hiding in your dirty apartment and arguing with your crazy mind. So don’t dare to compare yourself to me.” Everything fell silent, and in that stillness we existed, separated by one distant 昀氀oor. Then, she let out a quick gasp. “What is it?” I asked, hoping that it wouldn’t be what I had feared. “Someone’s picking on the lock of my front door,” she whispered, a hint of quivering in her voice. She begged and begged me to help, but there was no chance for me to reach her. The door of her apartment slammed open, her desperate cries muf昀氀ed then echoing faintly through the vent. PLAINS PARADOX ■ 56