She pulls back. “Most of them. The saying ‘blood is thicker than water’ rings true because it is true.”

“Not all,” I say.

She stops crying, and it passes through my mind that my wife is beautiful even after a cry.

“Maybe not all,” she finally allows.

It’s no surrender, but it’s the first time Kristen has opened the door on adoption. It’s only a crack. A sliver. It’s a beginning, though.

That night, while Kristen sleeps and dreams that I’ve finally gotten her pregnant, I take the tequila bottle and head for her office at the front of the house. My fingertips hover over the keyboard of the computer before I touch the space bar, and the blue light of the screen comes at me. I shouldn’t do what I’m about to do. Nothing good will come of it. I know that. And yet, I find myself unable to resist the impulse. I look up the Warner murder case. It’s been six weeks since everything happened. I remember nothing of it. Yet I can’t get it out of my mind. I study pictures of Sophie, her husband, Adam, and their little girl, Aubrey. That same wave of nausea that hit me at the Blue Door finds me again. Did I do this? Was I the one who took her? Killed her? Dumped her in the water of Hood Canal?

I don’t ask myself why I would do it. There is no need for that. I would never hurt anyone. Not Sophie Warner. Not anyone. Sitting there at my computer, looking at each of them, raises tears to my eyes.

I lost time.

I had blood.

My shoes were sandy.

I sit there reading and wondering what I should do. Should I go to the police? Should I post a tip online? The reality is I don’t even know what I’d say.

“Hey, about that case in Lilliwaup. I don’t think I did it, but I might have.”

I don’t think I could manage a list of reasons that would point to me. I don’t remember. I could see the look of doubt in Kristen’s eyes. I could imagine the hurt that this would bring to her. And the shame that would make her the subject of gossip all over our neighborhood.

Indeed, all over Seattle.

She wants to believe in me. I can see that too. I’m not imagining it. I know her better than anyone in the world. Kristen would do whatever she could to help me. I know that in the marrow of my bones.

I know all of that, and yet I wonder.

Would she still stand by me if she knew that I’d known Sophie Warner?

Would anyone?

“What are you doing up?”

I turn to see Kristen right behind me, and my heart rate ratchets up.

“Just thinking about what happened,” I finally say.