I hired an actor to stand beside me at my high school reunion because I didn’t think I could face my old bully and my ex-husband by myself. I thought I was only paying for one evening of courage. But when my bully recognized him, the story she had built around me finally began to collapse.
That afternoon, I wiped the words “Unreliable Narrator” from the whiteboard as my last literature student left the lecture hall.
“Remember,” I called after them, “the person telling the story isn’t always the one telling the truth.”
Continue on the next page:
