She had taken two trains to Penn Station, got on the Red Line and transferred at Freeport for the Purple Line, then called a local cab company to take her to Merv’s beach house. When she arrived, his aide answered the door. He’s really excited to see you, she said and took Julie through the house that she had lost so many days and nights fantasizing about: her summer home with Merv once they became a real couple, her weekends in the Hamptons while all those other bitches geotagged their lattes. God, she was even more basic than basic. She was a frigging amoeba. Walking through the kitchen, she saw a DO NOT RESUSCITATE notice signed by Merv’s ex-wife on the fridge.