I skipped a few pages. Tears blurred my eyes, while reality and incredulity waged a raging battle in my head. My heart leaped as I found this clipping, dated a year later, the missing piece that finally convinced me.

Regina Holdsworth, the miraculously cured cancer patient who was almost killed by a drunk driver last August, has woken up from her coma almost a year to the day since her tragic accident. ‘Regina is communicating well, though is still very poorly. She is obviously confused, does not respond to her own name and has no recollection of her life before her accident. She will have to undergo intensive treatment over a long period of time, but early signs are promising,’ said a hospital spokesman earlier today.

I finished reading and sat stunned for ages, running it over and over in my head. The crushing guilt I had endured since my Danielle had died was slowly lifting and I began to understand. It had been so easy for me to fall for Regina - the attraction was so strong and compelling because she was my wife. I can only explain it thus: in her last hours, the prison in Danielle’s mind totally fell apart and her life before the accident escaped from its confines. Regina was free again. She came to find me, to show me the girl she had been before the runaway lorry took her. She couldn’t rest till she had. Danielle finally rediscovered and accepted her painful, forgotten past and made herself whole; then she quietly and contentedly slipped away, knowing I had fallen in love with all of her - and all of her had fallen in love with me. Danielle and Regina: my wife, my lover. One and the same.