Dr. Rosenthal takes a deep breath. “That’s a serious charge, Jane. You’ll need to go to the police.”

“No, I would never do that.” I already have.

She presses, “What does David think?”

My face falls and I rummage for a tissue. Time to turn on the faucet. “David isn’t home much these days.”

Smelling another delicate and potentially juicy topic, Dr. Rosenthal takes the bait, as always. Isn’t this what she went to school for? To hear me spill the juicy details of my husband’s illicit affair? Of course it is.

“Tell me more, Jane. It’s okay.”

I break down, sobbing. “I...just...”

“What is it?”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” I manage to tell her. This is true. I know it.

Dr. Rosenthal writes something down. “He seemed very committed to the marriage when he was here.” She looks through her notes. “Oh, my, that was almost ten months ago now. I thought I’d seen him since. Time flies. We need to bring him in for a session, a couple’s session.”

Tears stream down my cheeks. She hands me another tissue.

“What evidence do you have for your feelings? Remember, we don’t always perceive people and events as we should when we’re mired in grief. That goes for both Betsy and David. I’m sure Betsy has an alibi for when Mary died.”

Well, I’m right about both of them, Doctor. “David is having an affair. I have photos of the two of them together. And Betsy, well, this is just awful.”

Dr. Rosenthal looks shocked. This is all bad form, I know. Screwing around on your grieving wife, murdering your sister. I start crying again.

“Really? Are you sure about David?” She looks at her notes, and back at me.

Yes. I’ve been spying on him for months now. And there’s Hoffman. “The tennis coach. Told. Me. He works at The Cove, he knows everything.” I sob.

“This man told you Betsy killed Mary? And that your husband is cheating on you?” She has stopped taking notes.

I nod.

She looks at me.

“Well, sort of.”

“Jane. Have you been drinking again?” She’s twisting her glasses around her finger. It’s mesmerizing.

“No. I mean, I’ve had a little, but I’m really much better.” That’s true. It’s time. You could say the memorial service really opened my eyes. Or, you could say, my eyes were fully opened when David crossed that threshold with Kylie in his arms. In truth, as you know, I never was as grief-addled as I seemed. “The fog is lifting. I need to take control of my life. And I need answers, about Mary’s death. And David, too.”