The floor rose toward me. Dante caught me before my knees struck the tile. I fought him with every fragment of strength left in my body.The floor rose toward me. Dante caught me before my knees struck the tile. I fought him with every fragment of strength left in my body.

At night, she woke screaming from dreams she could not explain.
I woke with her.
Every time.
On the third morning, a woman named Helen Cho arrived.
She was a family-law attorney recommended by the hospital’s victims’ advocate, not by Dante.
She was forty-six, wore a navy suit, and asked questions without softening them.
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