Beatrice Jannsen is staring at me like I’m some kind of exotic zoo animal, and it makes me want to punch her. I get the sense that my arrival disrupted an argument between them. There was a condescending quality to her voice when Ezra introduced us that set me on edge immediately.

We’re sitting in Ezra’s apartment, awkwardly sipping coffee. I’m staring past Bea at a statuette of Saint Benedict perched on the corner of the TV stand. It’s been silent for several minutes ...