“Excuse me,” he said. Excuse me, as though he’s done something wrong. It’s polite, of course. But it’s more than that. It’s a mask, an insecurity, a safety. ”Excuse me,” I need you to repeat that. I watched as he took steps back, forward, to the side. They each had a purpose, not all belonging to his own. One for him, one for Justin, one for Sophie. He went back for others, forward for himself, and to the side together. ”Excuse me,” he said. ”I’m trying to help,” I heard.
