Marguerite set the sweatshirt on the chair and looked at me with something I finally recognized as pity, aimed not at me but at him. “Tell her,” she said, “or I will walk out of this room and you can do it alone.” Then she left.
Julian had a cardiomyopathy. Diagnosed in March. The urgent care visit led to an echocardiogram, then a cardiologist, then a second opinion he attended on a Tuesday he told me was a site inspection. Ejection fraction of thirty-one percent. He had been on medication for six months, hiding the bottles in his truck.
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