I KNOCK ON THE DOOR of the men’s room, and then walk inside. On one wall is a really long, gross urinal.

On the other, washing his hands in a sink, is Campbell. He’s wearing a pair of my dad’s uniform pants. Helooks different now, as if all the straight lines that had been used to draw his face have been smudged. “Juliasaid you wanted me to come in here,” I say.

“Yeah, I wanted to talk to you alone, and all the conference rooms are upstairs. Your dad doesn’t think Iought to tackle that just yet.” He wipes his hands on a towel. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Well, I don’t even know if there’s a decent answer to that. I chew on my lower lip. “Is that why I couldn’t patthe dog?”

“Yeah.”

“How does Judge know what to do?”

Campbell shrugs. “It’s supposed to have something to do with scent or electrical impulses that an animal cansense before a human can. But I think it’s because we know each other so well.” He pats Judge on the neck.

“He gets me somewhere safe before it happens. I usually have about twenty minutes’ lead time.”

“Huh.” I am suddenly shy. I’ve been with Kate when she’s really, really sick, but this is different. I hadn’tbeen expecting this from Campbell. “Is this why you took my case?”

“So that I could have a seizure in public? Believe me, no.”

“Not that.” I look away from him. “Because you know what it’s like to not have any control over your body.”

“Maybe,” Campbell says thoughtfully. “But my doorknobs did sorely need polishing.”

If he’s trying to make me feel better, he’s failing miserably. “I told you having me testify wasn’t the greatestidea.”

He puts his hands on my shoulders. “Anna, come on. If I can go back in there after that performance, yousure as hell can climb into the hot seat for a few more questions.”

How am I supposed to fight that logic? So I follow Campbell back into the courtroom, where nothing is theway it was just an hour ago. With everyone watching him like he’s a ticking bomb, Campbell walks up to thebench and turns to the court in general. “I’m very sorry about that, Judge,” he says. “Anything for a ten-minute break, right?”

How can he make jokes about something like this? And then I realize: it’s what Kate does, too. Maybe if Godgives you a handicap, he makes sure you’ve got a few extra doses of humor to take the edge off.

“Why don’t you take the rest of the day, Counselor,” Judge DeSalvo offers.

“No, I’m all right now. And I think it’s important that we get to the bottom of this.” He turns to the courtreporter. “Could you, uh, refresh my memory?”

She reads back the transcript, and Campbell nods, but he acts like he’s hearing my words, regurgitated, forthe very first time. “All right, Anna, you were saying Kate asked you to file this lawsuit for medicalemancipation?”

Again, I squirm. “Not quite.”

“Can you explain?”

“She didn’t ask me to file the lawsuit.”

“Then what did she ask you?”

I steal a glance at my mother. She knows; she has to know. Don’t make me say it out loud.

“Anna,” Campbell presses, “what did she ask you?”

I shake my head, tight-lipped, and Judge DeSalvo leans over. “Anna, you’re going to have to give us ananswer to this question.”

“Fine.” The truth bursts out of me; a raging river, now that the dam’s washed away. “She asked me to killher.”

The first thing that was wrong was that Kate had locked the door to our bedroom, when there wasn’t really alock, which meant she’d either pushed up furniture or pennied it shut. “Kate,” I yelled, banging, because Iwas sweaty and gross from hockey practice and I wanted to take a shower and change. “Kate, this isn’t fair.”

I guess I made enough noise, because she opened up. And that was the second thing: there was somethingjust wrong about the room. I glanced around, but everything seemed to be in place—most importantly, noneof my stuff had been messed with—and yet Kate still looked like she’d swilled a mystery.

“What’s your problem?” I asked, and then I went into the bathroom, turned on the shower, and smelled it—sweet and almost angry, the same boozy scent I associated with Jesse’s apartment. I started opening upcabinets and rummaging through towels and trying to find the proof, no pun intended, and sure enough therewas a half-empty bottle of whiskey hidden behind the boxes of tampons.

“Looky here…” I said, brandishing it and walking back into the bedroom, thinking I had a great little wedgeof blackmail to use to my advantage for a while, and then I saw Kate holding the pills.

“What are you doing?”

Kate rolled over. “Leave me alone, Anna.”

“Are you crazy?”

“No,” Kate said. “I’m just sick of waiting for something that’s going to happen anyway. I think I’ve fuckedup everyone’s life long enough, don’t you?”

“But everyone’s worked so hard just to keep you alive. You can’t kill yourself.”

All of a sudden Kate started to cry. “I know. I can’t.”

It took me a few moments to realize this meant she’d already tried before.

My mother gets up slowly. “It’s not true,” she says, her voice stretched thin as glass. “Anna, I don’t knowwhy you’d say that.”

My eyes fill up. “Why would I make it up?”

............