I Was Pregnant When My Husband’s Mistress Smashed My Car And Called Me A Homewrecker

lots, and a block I had believed was my own. Photographs taken outside my obstetrician’s building. Outside a grocery store I used on Saturdays. Outside my front door.

Captions describing me, systematically, over sixty days: a thief, a trap, a woman who had stolen what was rightfully hers.

Then the text message sent after her first arrest, from an unregistered continue reading …