Just then, the second officer returned to the room. He leaned against the wall and tapped his boot on the floor. “We understand you and your husband are having a bit of a...rough patch.”

My jaw fell open. “Who—” But I steadied my voice; the more defensive I appeared to these men, the worse off I’d be. “Who told you that?” I asked, feigning calm.

“Your husband has been slipping in and out of consciousness; the charge nurse—”

“So he’s okay?” I restrained myself from lunging out of my chair and making my way to the door.

“The charge nurse,” the officer started again, “has begun to ask him a few additional questions as they get him hooked up to his IV.”

Heat rose to my face. James told the nurse we’re having a rough patch? Was he trying to have me arrested?

But I reminded myself: so far as I knew, James was unaware of the predicament I now found myself in. Unless the police had told him that I was under interrogation, he had no knowledge of the terrible turn of events that had landed me in front of these officers.

The lead officer tapped his pencil against the table, waiting on my response to James’s claim. To improve my own situation, I considering rejecting it, insisting James had lied about our rough patch. But wouldn’t it look even worse if I accused James of being a liar? The officers were inclined to believe the person in the critical care unit, not the healthy wife with the suspicious notebook—so if James told them we were having marital struggles, I couldn’t deny it. The reality of the situation hardened around me like the steel bars of a jail cell. Maybe it was time to start thinking about an attorney.

“Yeah,” I relented, preparing to unleash my only line of defense: James’s infidelity. It was unfortunate for him that, just as I’d begun to process the reality of what had happened, I found myself wanting to use it against him. “I found out last week that he—” But I stopped myself. It was no use to reveal to these two men that James had cheated on me. It wouldn’t turn them on him, I felt sure of that; it would only serve to make me look vengeful and, perhaps, emotionally unstable.

“James and I learned, last week, that we have a few things we need to work through. I came to London to get away for a few days. I meant to be here alone. Call the hotel and ask the registration desk. I checked in by myself.” I straightened, looking the second officer in the eye. “In fact, James showed up in London unplanned, with almost no warning. Go ask the nurse. James can’t deny it.”

The two officers eyed one another warily.