Malcolm Bright

“When I was ten years old, I found a woman in a travel trunk in the basement of my family home. I called the police, but when they came, she was gone. I didn’t understand, at the time, that my father had been drugging me into amnesia with chloroform. I didn’t know that he’d had lots of time to take her far away from our house. I thought I was saving her. But she wasn’t there when they searched. Everyone told me she was imaginary for twenty years, but she was real and I knew it,” Malcolm tells him. “But I couldn’t save her. Or the twenty-three before her.”