Wide eyes from Shanti. “Do you want me to ask?”

“Can I come with you?” The last of the Coke was bubbles on my tongue. “I won’t know exactly how to ask my questions until we’re talking.”

“Do you really think Elei saw anything?”

“You know she stays up late.” That golden window flickering with light and shadow, I was sure I’d seen it that night from my balcony.

“Watching her dramas.” Shanti repositioned a dish towel an inch to the right. “I tried to get her to watch mine, but the English subtitles are too fast for her.”

“Isn’t yours starting now?”

She waved a hand. “I can catch up. I’ll ask Elei if she’s free.” Taking out her cellphone, she sent a text.

For some reason, I hadn’t thought Alice’s mother would have a phone. Blind spot there. Had to be careful not to get those.

“She’ll reply when she checks.” Shanti slipped the phone back into her pocket. “Did you hear about Brett and Veda’s dog?”

“Yes. Did Dad blow up at you?”

“No, he laughed.” Shanti bit down on her lower lip. “He said whoever had done it had done us all a favor.” No glance toward the side of the house that held the office. Ah, my father must be out. That explained why she was being so free with conversation.

“The Fitzpatricks were yelling that he must’ve done it,” I said, nudging her along.

“Yes, he said the police asked him about it, and after that he sent a letter to the partners of the Fitzpatricks’ firm telling them their workers were slandering—is that the word?—neighbors without cause.”

Senior associates weren’t exactly average employees. Still, they weren’t partners. And no law firm or lawyer with aspirations wanted to be linked to headlines about neighbors battling it out. My father was a very smart operator.

The footprints I’d rubbed out on the outside path surfaced against my irises.

Broken foot, I reminded myself. No access to poison. Lots of weird mushrooms around. Even Anastasia, who’d seen me out at night, agreed the dog must’ve eaten something bad.

Shanti slid her phone out of her pocket. “Come, Elei’s free to talk.”

We went to walk outside together, my leg feeling totally fucked. If it remained like this, I’d need to see the doctor. For now, I said, “Shanti, I’m sorry, but do you think you could get a couple of my pain pills?”

“Of course.” A gentle pat on my arm. “You’re hurting. I’ll go now. Is it on the table beside your bed like before?”

I nodded. I wasn’t worried she’d nose around. In fact, she returned so quickly that she was a little puffed. Her eyes were dark with worry. “I just brought down the whole bottle.” She opened it in front of me.

Popping two of the pills in my mouth, I swallowed them down with the water Shanti passed over. Then I put the pill bottle on top of the fridge where I’d see it when I returned to the house.

“I felt something else on the fridge,” I commented as we headed to the back door. “I think I pushed it back when I put my pills up there. Seemed to be wrapped up in a plastic bag.”

“Oh, silly me.” She slapped her forehead. “It’s the rat poison I got after you saw one of them in the house. I meant to put the unused poison in the garden shed. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

My guts churned, all the food I’d just eaten wanting to disgorge itself. “Yeah. When was that?” Keep it casual, Aarav, don’t freak the fuck out. “Time’s running together since I’ve been sick.”

“Hmm, three weeks ago?” She opened the back door.

Soon after my release from the hospital, while my brain was still bruised from the accident. Could I have planned to poison the dog? Had I had the capacity? Or had I truly seen a rodent? It wasn’t impossible this close to the bush. Even if that was true . . . I could’ve still spotted the poison at some point after I was more mobile, and stored the information in my subconscious.

The air was chilly outside, but with my leg pulsing with heat and my mind racing, I welcomed the icy bite of it. Shanti, in contrast, wrapped her thick navy cardigan coat more firmly around herself and led me past the pool, and through the back garden.

I’d almost forgotten the door in the fence at the very back corner that connected my father’s property to Alice and Cora’s. I had a vague memory of my father saying the landscaper had thought it a cute feature in case the next-door neighbors ended up being a family with children and we wanted to play together.

It hadn’t worked out that way.

But when Shanti pulled at the gate, it swung open with liquid smoothness.

Only a few more steps until I could speak to Grandma Elei—no, just Elei. Elei who had a friendship with Shanti and who wore an expensive scent and who liked to pretend she didn’t speak that much English. A three-dimensional person, not the benign grandmotherly type I’d always seen her as.

She was already seated on a little wooden bench under a spreading pōhutukawa tree that someone had decorated with twinkling fairy lights, the sight of fallen starlight I’d appreciated more than once from my balcony. No red splashed the dark green of the tree today, the flowers dormant for the winter. It was Alice’s mother who was wearing red—a big puffy jacket that all but encompassed her.

“Elei.” Shanti laughed. “It’s not that cold!” She hurried over to the bench to take a seat next to the other woman.

At Elei’s feet sat a pristine white poodle. Princess, Alice’s pampered pooch. She was probably more groomed and polished than most people you’d meet, and had a sweet nature. No guard dog was Princess. Neither did she bark much.

She must’ve been at doggie daycare that time I went over to Alice’s.