“Then Lisa made a gurgling sound and started to convulse. You hugged her close, as if she were cold, and clapped her on the back. She had her head against your chest, rolling it from side to side. That was when her nose started to bleed. Not just a trickle. It poured.”

“All over my shirt.”

“She pushed you away and stumbled deeper into the woods. You followed, saying her name over and over. I lost sight of you and had to follow the sound of your voice.” Ramón hissed and twisted his neck. “Jesus, Christine, that’s enough. My head is freezing.”

Christine lifted the cold compress and said, “Baby.”

“Que ladilla eres,” he said to her, and then, to Luke: “She was a crack whore. Found her in the gutter in Vegas. Brought her here. Saved her life.”

“And what a life,” Luke said, stepping away from a cockroach as it skittered across the linoleum in front of him. “Now keep talking.”

Ramón did: “Lisa didn’t get far. You caught up to her, took her by the arms. She was still convulsing. I was maybe fifteen feet away. It was too dark for me to see everything, but I did see her collapse. She jerked away from you, then slumped to her knees and fell backward.”

“So dark,” Lisa chimed in. She looked at Luke, her mouth angled downward. “And cold, baby. Cold.”

Luke remembered none of this, an absence of mind that offered no reprieve. On the contrary, he felt hollowed out, emasculated—a spectator at his wife’s undoing. Lisa mumbled something else, still looking at him through the dull stones of her eyes. He wondered if there was a way back for her.

The .38 Special was still in his right hand and it still felt good. The temptation to aim, fire, and put his last bullet through Ramón’s skull was great indeed.

“Go on,” he said instead.

“There’s not much left to say.” Ramón rolled his shoulders, flashing his teeth with the discomfort. “You crouched over Lisa, trying to get her to wake up, then you took out your cell phone—to call for an ambulance, I suppose, although you never made it that far.”

“You hit me from behind,” Luke said, touching the back of his head. “Knocked me out.”

“I found a heavy branch,” Ramón said. “You went down. I put your phone into your pocket and dragged you to the nearest tree. You were so still. I thought you might be dead.”

Not quite, Luke thought. Just a few critical memories erased.

“I picked Lisa up and carried her to my van.” Ramón looked at her while he spoke. She returned the gaze, smiling vacantly. “I had to wait for some people to leave the parking lot, then I put her in the back and drove away.”