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.

But he can make your life more difficult while they investigate.

That’s what this is.”

I stared at a paragraph describing Julian as a caring husband who had spent months encouraging me to seek treatment for unexplained fatigue.

He had written a whole alternate version of my life while I was still trying to remember the real one.

That afternoon, my mother called from Phoenix.

She was seventy-one and quick to worry, and I had been trying to tell her only what she needed to know.

Julian had beaten me to it.