For me.
“Iris,” she said, and her voice changed. It thinned, almost cracked. “There are truths that do not heal simply because they are uncovered.”
I stared at the screen.
For ten years, I had believed I knew the worst night of my marriage. I remembered the argument. The stairs. The pain. Jason’s voice above me, distant and panicked, telling me not to move. I remembered waking in the hospital with Evelyn beside me, telling me the story we would use.
A fall.
An accident.
A private matter.
But if there was lobby footage from St. Catherine’s, then something had happened after I arrived.
Something someone had saved.
Something Evelyn did not want me to see.
Daniel turned to me gently. “Iris, it’s your decision.”
The room blurred around the edges.
