At 3 A.M., My Brother Dragged Me Out of My Bedroom While Dad Laughed—He Had No Idea What the Smoke Detector Had Recorded

A missing envelope.

A conversation I clearly remembered but which Douglas insisted I’d misunderstood.

I started keeping notes.

At first, on the backs of receipts.

Then in a blue three-ring binder.

Dates.

Times.

Things I’d noticed.