" I saw someone arguing with my wife, then he hit her. He grabbed her. Carried her. My glasses fell. I couldn’t see everything clearly. She was right here.” I point to the glass, now in shards, from which Sophie had been drinking while she sat on the bulkhead. “Have you been drinking too?” she asks. “No,” I insist. Why would she say something like that? I’m shaking. I’m out of breath. I’m in shock. I’m not drunk. I know what I saw. Or what I partially saw. No doubt. Someone took my wife. Her eyes show a mix of concern and alarm. “Sheriff is on the way,” she finally says. "

― Gregg Olsen , Lying Next to Me