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rule anything out, and they weren’t listening to me anyway, so I continued looking.
    Time passed; it seemed like hours but it was probably only minutes. It wasn’t possible, but Jen just wasn’t there. I was starting to face that fact when one of the officers came back to me and confirmed it.
    “Your girlfriend is not here,” he said.
    I nodded, but none of it was making any sense.
    “Have you had any alcoholic beverages, sir?”
    “You think I’m drunk?” Was this guy kidding me?
    “I didn’t say that, sir. Please answer my question.”
    “It’s eleven o’clock in the morning.… We went for a ride.… No, for God’s sakes, I haven’t had anything to drink.”
    He asked me to perform a few physical maneuvers … walking a straight line, touching my nose with my eyes closed … things like that. I was frustrated, but I did it so we could move on.
    He was finally satisfied, and the talk turned back to the accident and Jen’s disappearance.
    “Maybe she was dazed,” I said, though not really believing it. “Maybe she walked away.”
    He obviously didn’t believe it either. “Where would she go?”
    “Well, she was from around here, so…,” I said, and then I saw it. On his uniform shirt, the name WINSTON .
    “Are you Jack Winston?”
    He was surprised that I knew that. “Yes. How is it you know me?”
    “The woman I was with is Jennifer Ryan.”
    There was no sign of recognition in his face, so I pressed on. “She was your girlfriend in high school. Jennifer Ryan.”
    Still no reaction. “I don’t believe I know the name, sir.”
    How stupid was this man? “Her family lives up the road. Can we go there? Maybe somebody picked her up and drove her home.”
    “Without you?” he asked.
    “I don’t know … but she’s got to be somewhere.”
    He agreed to take me to the house, and I led him there. When we pulled up, he said, with apparent skepticism, “Your girlfriend grew up here?”
    “Yes.”
    As soon as the car stopped, I jumped out and ran to the front door. Somewhere in the back of my mind it registered that the house looked slightly different, perhaps more tattered and less well-cared-for. Effects of the storm?
    Officer Winston came up behind me as I rang the bell and Janice answered. “Yes?” she asked in greeting.
    I started to babble about the accident, but my attention was drawn to the interior of the house. It appeared different; it’s hard to explain, but it looked as if somebody had gone over the place with a warmth remover.
    Janice was confused and looked at Winston. “Jack? What’s going on?”
    I didn’t hear his answer, as I was already moving past Janice and into the house. The differences were even more stark than I had first realized; the furniture was not the same, family pictures were gone from the walls.… I moved quickly toward the room that Jen and I had slept in.
    I vaguely heard Winston yelling after me as I opened the door and received what felt like an electric jolt. It was no longer a bedroom; it was more like a den or office.
    My mind couldn’t seem to process what might be going on. I headed back to the living room and ran into Janice and Winston, who had been following me.
    “What is going on here?” I demanded. “Why have you changed everything?”
    “What are you talking about?” Janice asked.
    “Where is Ben?”
    Janice almost recoiled from my question. “My husband Ben?”
    “Yes.”
    “He died almost twenty years ago.”
    I was starting to lose it, and I grabbed her arm. “Why the hell are you saying this? Why are you doing this?”
    Officer Winston roughly pulled me away. “That’s enough. We’re out of here. Sorry, Mrs. Ryan.”
    I pulled back. “Wait. Janice … Mrs. Ryan … I stayed here the last four nights. With your daughter. Jen and I are going to be married, but we were in an accident.”
    Her reaction was immediate; she slapped me in the face and would probably have killed me if Winston would have let her. “Get out