Why Her Lawyer Went Pale In A Motel Parking Lot

day after the funeral, the house was silent. I stood at the kitchen sink in Ethan’s old sweatshirt. Outside the window, the garden was bare.

When I looked out the front window, I saw Diana’s car parked across the street. Early, barely 7:00 a.m. She sat still, hands on the wheel, staring.

I didn’t call Angela. I didn’t take a picture. I just picked up continue reading …