Stolen Life, Stolen Love

orced domesticity. I tried. I really did. I tried t

ok him to the park. But every interaction felt like a performance. When he' d reach for my hand, my first instinct was to pull away. When he' d call me "Momm

ful. He would constantly fe

o the zoo and he was so scared of

resentment. "Yes, I remember." I was lying to a man who was

died. It was just buried. And I needed to prove it, once and for al

ke name and a P.O. box I opened online. Over the next few weeks, I sent out samples to three different independen

This would be it. This would be the undeniab

ed it with trembling hands. "Pr

possible.

ame two days later.

rived a week aft

he science, three separate times, had confirmed their story. T

drained out of me. It

a son named Leo. I had a loving husband and parents who were trying to care for

I was, the strong, successful woman-she was a ghost. A fantasy. I was a failure. A high-school dropout who became a housewife a

thought I was, and for the broken woman I now had to be.

I would take the medication and try to pie

was numb, just going through the motions. The sun was bright, the sky was clear. Oth

all Leo to go ho

ng on her cell phone. She had her back to me, but something about her

ghtly, and I s

art s

was

in the same sleek bob I' d had before they made me grow it out, telling me it was "mor

allucination. A symptom of my "illness." That' s wha

memory or a feeling. This was a person

, and started walking away, d

ingle, explosive thought lit up my brain, connectin

hospital records. T

eren't

were

st were

in sister, Ashley. The one who h