Marilyn She was discharged from the hospital a week later, and the social worker had organised home help for her for the next month, and organised patient transport to her home, or the address that was on her driver’s license. The police had dropped off her one suitcase, and handbag with her belongings in it. Even to her, it looked as though she had been travelling from somewhere, returning home, she guessed. There was a laptop in that suitcase, some clothes and a couple of books all with her name on them, all written by Marilyn Riddley. There was no picture of herself on them, but she’d flipped through them and smiled as she'd gotten the sense that she was the actual author of those books. When she’d turned that laptop on, there had been a password to unlock it, and she’d been able t