I did not yet know that the truth waiting for me in that cold room was not the one I was braced for at all, and that it was about to tear down every lie my husband had spent six years and a great deal of money building.

The doors opened onto the basement corridor, and I walked toward the light of the examination room, and I made myself breathe.

Chapter 10 — That’s Not My Daughter

The forensic pathologist met me at the door, and he was kind, and careful, and he did not rush me.

When I nodded that I was ready — though no one is ever ready — he lowered the white sheet only as far as he had to, only to the face, with the gentleness of a man who has done this terrible task many times and never once let it become routine.

I looked.