The Impostor Husband, The Vanished Daughter

t something was wr

ed in on the old house, a silence where my

y voice sounding too loud

d home in this forgotten town, for a few hours. The ai

ans

I walked through the downstairs rooms, my

ney, where

all pantry, the back porch wi

irs, my step

pushing open the door

ng out at the overgrown yard. He tur

ything okay

breath coming short. "She was just

. It stayed fixed on his face,

t are you tal

ion rising in my voice. "Our

put his hands on my shoul

ent. The kind of voice you use with a child or someone who is v

. The air rushed

on' t joke like that, Da

y. "You' ve been sick, Olivia. For years. Sometimes you

m him, a cold dre

ing her yellow dress, the one with the li

or the sketchbook, the box of crayons. They were gone. The small corner wher

here," I whispere

, Daniel' s mother, walked in. She had a shar

ommotion?" she ask

f her episodes," Daniel said, h

her expression a mixtur

ght the new medica

ught a child with he

ed over to me, placing a

"There is no one else here. It' s just you, me, and D

t, their expressions perfectly aligned. They looked at me li

trembling. "Both of you. Where is

ent to his overnight bag and

via. You' ve worked yourself up

t a small

decade, he had been my rock, my partner. No

ble? Could t

ke 'dissociation' and 'psychotic breaks' . I had always felt a fog in my memory, gaps I

ty. His

by a vast, hollow emptiness. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe

was a physical weight, pressing me down. I let Daniel guide me t

n sick for a long tim

loss that was, apparently, not even real. My hand slipped down the side of th

against a p

arefully, pulled it out from wher

l with long black hair holding hands with a woman. The girl wore a bright

I

rough me, shar

eal. She

was no