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.
There are also indications that someone was discussing a procedure.
I can’t tell you more until we verify it.”
“A procedure?”
She looked directly at me.
“You deserve accurate answers.
We are going to seek them.”
That one word lodged in my mind all afternoon.
A procedure meant equipment, preparation, people who knew what they were doing.
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