A note next to it read, Don’t forget the afternoon tablets.

The ordinary kindness of the gesture hurt almost as much as the papers.

For two years, he had organized my medication by day of the week.

He had driven me to appointments, helped me learn the layout of our house, and steadied me whenever I lost my balance.

I didn’t want those memories to become false simply because something frightening had followed them.

But they no longer made the frightening thing disappear.