Am I a decent man?How can I be, after what I've done? If my life were a jigsaw puzzle, it would look from a distance like every piece were present and correct and in its rightful order. The edges straight and square, the surface perfectly smooth, the picture complete. And that – I would have said once – is what makes me a decent man. But that was before Anna Johnson... I could blame Anna for the things that go wrong. For the decisions I make, the ones my work colleagues question, the ones that turn away my wife and my son, and the ones no one else knows about. I could blame her for the dreams, unsettling and lifelike. And I could blame her, too, for the fear that invades my body, the physical sensations I can't control, right when I need control the most. I could blame Anna for all of this because it starts with her. But the more I learn about Anna Johnson, about who she...