I know my husband is dead. But I don’t know whether I killed him . . .

I‘ll never forget meeting Charles. We were law students at Santa Clara University when I fell head-over-heels. He was brilliant, charming, and handsome. Oh, and he loved me. We got married after a whirlwind romance and moved into a gorgeous new home while I continued with law school – until I became pregnant with Emma. My happiness was complete. But happiness can be deceiving . . .

Now Charles is gone. I found his body in our living room, but I can’t remember what happened just before he died. I’ve tried, but I’ve been having blackouts for months. The police think I killed him, but I didn’t . . . did I? I keep reliving our relationship, desperate to unlock the truth. But if I do, will I be able to face it?