FOR THREE MONTHS, I SMELLED SOMETHING ROTTING BESIDE MY HUSBAND—BUT HE SWORE NOTHING WAS THERE

bed.

My heart began to beat faster. Louder. Harder.

The thought came suddenly. Clear. Unavoidable.

“Something’s wrong… and I need to know.”

I dragged the mattress to the center of the room. My hands were shaking. Not from weakness. From anticipation. From fear of what I might find.

I reached for a box cutter. Took a deep breath. And made the first cut.