I knew Inez. She was resourceful, reckless, curious. My wife had conviction and cared deeply for the people in her life. Her family. And that was me. I was her family. The night we shared swam in my mind. How she had clung to me, afraid that I’d disappear. That the magic wouldn’t work, that I’d end up worse than before. She had gripped my hand through the worst of it, as if by her touch alone she’d save me from death.
