What is the worst game your mind can play? All I remember is blurry images, people like shadows rushing around me searching for their place in space-time, and sounds intertwining among us, wrapping us up, until a massive red wave, like a swelling tide, rushes over us and covers us. Silence for a moment, and then the sound comes muffled.

1-8-7, I repeat, 1-8-7, calling for backup. Dead child at the Catholic Elementary School Saint Joan of Arc. A suspect at the scene. Principal Agna Remik. I AM AGNA REMIK. The child of the San Antonio, Texas tragedy at Christmas 1989. My stepfather shot my mother and then took his own life.

Our little Margo ran away in fright and is now nothing more than a closed envelope of a child who was never found. I AM AGNA REMIK. The curse behind every tragedy. The woman desperately trying to be like you.

I have a beautiful cat, Zoe, and a clever doll, Jacqueline. I have a neighbor who sells my life to the press. I have a haunting question that torments me. Who am I? What am I? Desperately, I now ask you to help me discover it.