“Do you gotta death wish, girl?” Teresa asked, “What’s wrong with your head?”

“Teresa, please,” Alan said, “she’s not going there again, are you?” he looked at me.

“That’s not the point,” Teresa said, looking at me as she talked, “don’t you have any self-respect?”

“I know you think something is wrong with me,” I said, looking back at Teresa. Her eye’s widened in surprise as I spoke, “and you’re probably right. If you don’t want me to come here again, I won’t.”

“Marcy, don’t,” Alan said, “she’s just worried about you is all. We both are. I know you’re a private person. You’ve been that way as long as I can...

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