Grace
My husband turns up in a hospital in a border town with no recollection of how he got there. He’s been beaten badly, nearly within an inch of his life. That’s all I know. That’s all anyone can tell me. He’s alive, and that’s what matters.
What I don’t realize is that it will be years in the future before I find out the truth, or maybe as close to the truth as I will ever get. For now, I am just glad he is alive. I am glad to get my ticket out of this place. The other thing I don’t realize is that it isn’t going to happen all at once, like I thought it would, and that even after it happens I will often feel like I left a part of me here in this facility.
I learn quickly, though, that it isn’t like the movies, where the truth comes out, or at least what everyone thinks is the truth,
