Every time my brother-in-law drove me home, I would lose consciousness and wake up with unexplained aches and pains. My husband would only laugh and say, “You’re just out of shape, that’s all.” After the fourth ride, I secretly slipped a voice recorder into my purse and said nothing. That night, I listened to a phone conversation between the two of them that revealed my blackouts had never been accidental.

Priya placed her hand near mine on the table without touching me.

She waited until I reached for it.

“I want to hear the rest of the recording,” I said.

Ellis asked if I was sure.

I wasn’t, but I also knew I could stop whenever I wanted.

She played a short portion beginning after the sound that had frightened me.

A door opened.

A woman said, “Not in the waiting area.