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I locked my wife in the pantry under the stairs

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because grief makes people uncomfortable. Now they have to face what they had bowed to.

When Margaret sees me in court, she smiles.

Even then.

“My boy,” she mouths.

I look away.

When I testify, my voice shakes only once. When the prosecutor asks what Emily said before I locked the pantry, I answer clearly.

“She said, ‘Andrew, please. Not today.’”

“And did continue reading …

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