“I know exactly what I am saying.

Santiago’s scar is on your hip.

The one from the shower door, in 2017, that I cleaned and bandaged myself for six weeks.

It is on your body right now.

Explain that to this room.”

He went gray.

The color simply drained out of his face, and the performance faltered, and for a second the loving, frightened husband was not there at all and something else looked out through his eyes.

I turned away from him, to Teresa, because she was the one who mattered most, the one who had the most right and the most to lose.