It’s roast beef on a kaiser, to say the least, with iceberg and fries. Tepid and soggy, to be exact. Silence isn’t less silent with food in your mouth, but chewing is something to do when you can’t look up.

Billions of eyes blinking, but only six in the room. One pair each, over the sterile bed, for Mother to communicate with slight twitches, and a curling at the mouth. Which makes JJ queasy for a moment, and then another, and a third, before he excuses himself.