My Wife Woke in a Hospital Bed, Saw the Tattoo I’d Hidden for Four Years, and Instead of Asking Me to Make Them Disappear, She Said the Six Words That Set Me Free: “No Bodies. Ruin Them in the Light.”
His own phone, when it was lawfully examined, held the rest of the story his mother had been so sure was erased: text messages from Rosalind directing him to keep Samantha outside in the cold until she agreed to sign; and a reply from Valerie, who had not even bothered to come to the hospital, containing a laughing emoji and a photograph she had taken of her own sister kneeling in the snow.
I have seen a great many terrible things in the life I am trying to leave behind.
I am not sure I have ever seen anything colder than that photograph — a woman documenting her sister’s suffering for her own amusement, and hitting send.
It was, I reflected, exactly the kind of evidence the old me never had, and the new me would win with.
Chapter 10 — She Wakes