THE QUIET HOURS OF MURDER

I wake up standing over a dead woman, a bloody dagger clenched in my trembling hand. The worst part? I have no idea who she is, or how she died. It’s happened before. Three bodies. Three times I’ve lost my memory. My wife insists I’m sick, that my medication will make everything right. But something feels terribly wrong. When I seek help from a therapist, she tells me to stop taking my pills. And suddenly, the truth begins to surface… a truth that could make me wish I had never remembered.