“Not on your timetable,” he said.

“First we secure the scene.

Then we establish what actually happened and who knew about it.”

From the bedroom at the far end of the hall came the muffled sound of Preston coughing in his sleep.

For seven years, I had learned his every ordinary sound.

That night, each one felt like evidence of a stranger living inside my marriage.

PART 4: BEFORE THE HOUSE WOKE