Art was trying to get it together, trying to pull his to-do list into some semblance of something he could actually handle — and Ben sounded like he was on some other plane of being, and he should be worried about that, too, but all he could think was I should be able to do all this. He should be able to do all this, or he should be able to talk Ben out of the duel, and — both options seemed so impossible. His chest was still tight and he was trying to push through it, because at least he did not feel as underwater as he had at the boxing venue on Saturday.

And then Ben was asking about Melody and Art exhaled, needing to push air out of his lungs because Melody Crouch had not even begun to occur to him. "She doesn't know?" Art said, trying his best to keep his voice level; he wasn't off-kilter, he was Art and this was fine, he was fine, he could do this. But — maybe, probably, Melody actually should know.

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   Melody Crouch