He couldn't remember... hecouldn't remember how to...It was at that moment that something like loud, mocking laughter echoedthrough his mind....and su...denly his hand began to move again...He glanced down fearfully at these new words. They looked very differentfrom the rest of his handwriting. Their style was totally distinct: alllarge and flowery and bubbly.He tried to read them.i... i...He sounded it out, out loud.i... i..There was a big, cartoony loveheart above the 'i'. That seemed. My mind started wandering down worrisome paths as I recalled the book Gerald's Game, in which Stephen King had written about a husband who partaking in a perverse bondage ritual for sexual gratification, ties his wife securely to the bed and then unexpectedly dies of a heart attack, leaving her trapped and helpless. Perhaps I thought of it because the poor victim's spouse in the story was also a lawyer, but more than likely I was just engaging in the type of nagging insecurity Katie wanted me. More

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