At the hospital, the doctor’s words hit like a blow: “Your husband suffered a mild seizure. Likely brought on by stress or sleep deprivation.”

I sat there numb, staring at him through the glass of the ER, his body still, hooked up to machines. A plastic mask covered his mouth, chest rising and falling slowly.

A nurse came over softly. “Has your husband shown any unusual behavior lately?”

I opened my mouth to say no. But something in me faltered.

For months, things hadn’t been normal. Sayed stayed up later than usual, shutting his laptop when I walked in. His phone was always on silent. I once heard a woman’s name—Nadia—on a call. He said she was from procurement, but I felt the sting of