Chapter 1 - The black purse
My name is Ethan Cole.
Three years after my wife died, I found a hospital document with her name on it inside her mother’s purse.
I wish I could say I reacted calmly.
I didn’t.
My nine-year-old daughter was still on the bedroom floor.
Her purple unicorn shirt was twisted at one shoulder.
Several toys had been knocked over.
Marlene stood near the doorway with one hand against the wall.
I had shoved her away from Lily when I entered.
Then slapped her when she lunged for the purse.
That second part happened after Lily was already behind me.
I knew immediately I had crossed a line.
Anger is not legal permission.
But the paper in my hand pushed everything else temporarily out of my mind.
Claire Cole.
My wife.
Hospital admission date:
Three years earlier.
Five days after the car crash that eventually killed her.
Medication reconciliation.
Neurological evaluation.
Patient advocate consultation.
Then handwriting I recognized immediately.
Marlene’s.
ETHAN CANNOT SEE THIS.
I looked at her.
“What did you hide?”
Marlene’s face became strangely blank.
Then she said:
“You don’t understand that paper.”
I answered:
May you like
“Then explain it.”
She didn’t.
