Jimmy wakes up in a bathtub filled with his own blood, his wrists slit and his life rapidly nearly completion. This would be a textbook failed suicide attempt, only…Jimmy didn’t do it? At least, he’s pretty sure he didn’t. Alongside Margot, the 911 operator who took his call that faithful night, Jimmy begins an amateur-hour murder investigation, desperate to prove that this is a whodunnit and not a hedunnit. The list of suspects who might be happy if Jimmy wasn’t around anymore is fairly long—angry ex-girlfriends, frustrated siblings, exasperated psychiatrists, and resentful stepfathers. But the prime suspect is Jimmy himself.
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