“Maybe it’s a mistake,” she said weakly. “Maybe it’s just a shadow.”
But Dr. Evans didn’t back down. “It’s not a mistake, Susan. I think you need to go home and ask your husband about it.”
The words echoed in Susan’s mind as she left the clinic. Ask Michael? What was there to ask?
But as she stepped through the door of her home, everything changed. The house that once felt familiar now seemed alien. Michael was sitting in the living room, reading his newspaper, just like he always did. But Susan could no longer ignore the knot in her stomach, the fear that something dark was hiding beneath the surface of their marriage.
“Michael,” she said, her voice trembling. “Did I ever have surgery? Any kind of surgery?”
Michael didn’t look up from his paper. He didn’t even flinch. “Surgery? What are you talking about?”
But Susan had seen the look in Dr. Evans’ eyes. She knew something was wrong, and she needed answers.
And that’s when it all began to unravel. Michael’s face turned pale, his grip tightening around the newspaper as if it were the only thing keeping him grounded.
“I… I don’t remember,” Michael stammered. “But Susan, there are things… things you don’t remember. Things we’ve buried.”
Susan took a step closer, her heart pounding in her chest. “What are you talking about?”
