I told her that she was in my house for eleven weeks and I never once knocked on her door and asked her how she was.
And I said the thing I actually needed to say, which was that I had watched her be moved into a house against her will by the same woman, on the same afternoon, as me — and that I had spent three weeks deciding
she was the enemy because she was the one I could see.
She replied the next day.
“I know. I worked that out in about October.”
And then, underneath:
“Can I ask you something? When you said that thing at dinner — either they respect me in this house or they leave — did you mean me as well?”
And I sat and looked at that for a long time, because the honest answer is yes.
I meant all three of them. She was on my list. She was, on that Thursday, a person in my house that I wanted out of it.
So I told her yes.
