On the Morning of My Son’s Wedding, Our Family Driver Locked Me in the Trunk and Covered Me With a Blanket

getting ready to marry Natasha Quinn — beautiful, polished, said all the right things — and I was standing in a navy dress telling myself to stop being paranoid.

I was fastening my second earring when I heard gravel crunch outside.

Frederick’s car. Early. 7:30. We weren’t supposed to leave for another twenty minutes.

I grabbed my purse and headed downstairs.continue reading …