They were never suspected in the deaths of Ron Hazen and his dog. Still Matty suffered nightmares. Luke would watch him quivering and moaning through the night and sometimes Matty would sob in his dreams or utter shrill apologies and as Luke observed his beloved beset by terrors he was dismayed to discover he felt no sympathy, only a species of pity and distant, musing contempt. Mostly he thought about the guitar and his desire to play again. He no longer wondered where the thing had come from. His use of cocaine developed into a regular habit. Their s*x life diminished. As the year went on, Matty retreated further and further into himself. He lost weight, broke out in the worst case of acne he’d had since he was a teenager. He’d spark a joint first thing every morning and smoke continuall
