As a general rule, when you can’t remember where you left a corpse, you have to accept that maybe you could have done some things a little better.

So I really tried to listen when Lily yammered about integrating my inner child with something or other. I nodded my head a lot while admiring her necklace and noticing that my fingernails looked terrible even for a gardener.

When Lily called Oswald back to the study, she looked as happy as a kleptomaniac who’s found an unsupervised perfume counter. She said, “We’re in agreement now about the need for therapy.”

I wanted to be proactive so I said, “Give me a quick synopsis of everything that’s happened in the last two years and then we can go after the dirty bastard who killed Wilcox.”

“That’s Milagro all over,” Oswald said to Lily. “She rushes into situations.”

Lily looked sympathetic to my goals. “Milagro, your mind is fragile now. You’re going to go through a process of evolving like—”

“Like a butterfly from a chrysalis?”

She tipped her head. “I was thinking more of a frog from a tadpole.”

“Not as appealing,” I said.

“Use whatever image you like,” she said with a patient smile. “Oswald and Mercedes have agreed not to overwhelm you with information when you don’t have your own perspective on your recent history.”

“Okay.”

Oswald looked concerned and said to Lily, “Usually she’s much too curious.”

Lily smiled at me but spoke to Oswald. “Milagro’s lack of curiosity is a symptom of her illness. Her inquisitiveness will return when she’s feeling more secure.”

Oswald nodded and said to me, “Mercedes and I have talked to my cousin, Gabriel, who’s a security specialist. He’ll investigate Wilcox’s murder. You should sleep now. It can be the best short-term restorative and, who knows, you might wake up with your memory.”

I felt the need for comfort so I reached out to take his hand, but Lily shook her head. “No skin-on-skin contact, Milagro. It will just be more confusing until you’re better. Let me walk you to your room.”

We went to the maid’s room, and I sat down on the bed and said, “Lily, what is this condition that Oswald told me I have?”

“It’s a genetic autosomal recessive anomaly. You’re the only person I’ve ever met who didn’t inherit it. It’s extremely rare and not in the books.”

“Everything is in some book.”

“I have the condition, too. It’s specific to people descended from a few villages in Eastern Europe.” She sighed. “It makes life complicated.”

“Life is always complicated. So I was engaged to Oswald? I have a friend named Nancy who’s sure I’d get married in a nightclub to someone without a legitimate job who spends all his time partying. I can’t wait to tell her ‘I told you so.’”