“You're going to go home, and you’re going to forget everything that happened. Everything you saw.” “What did we do?” he said. “How did we... How could we...” “You're going to call me,” I said. “I'll get a room at the Beverly Hills Hotel. Call me there tomorrow. First thing in the morning. You’re not going to talk to anyone else between now and then. Do you hear me?” “Yes.” “Not your mother or your friends or even the cabdriver. Do you have a girlfriend?” He shook his head. “A roommate?” He nodded. “You tell them that you found a man on the street and you brought him to the hospital, OK? That’s all you tell them, and you only tell them if they ask.” “OK. ” He nodded. I called him a cab and waited with him until it arrived. I put him in the backseat. “What are you going to do first thing tomorrow?” I asked him through the rolled-down window. “Tm going to call you.” “Good,” I said. “If you can’t sleep, think. Think about what you need. What you need from me as a thank-you for what you did.” He nodded, and the cab zoomed off. People were staring at me. Evelyn Hugo in a pantsuit covered in blood. I was afraid paparazzi would be there any minute. I went inside. I talked my way into borrowing some scrubs and being given a private room to wait in. I threw my clothes away. When a man from the hospital staff asked me for a statement about what happened to Harry, I said, “How much will it take for you to leave me alone?” I was relieved when the dollar figure he came up with was less than what I had in my purse.