Inside my coffin at my own funeral, I was poisoned and paralyzed while my husband declared me dead—unaware I could still hear every word and expose his betrayal from within.

with a silent command I turned my coffin into his confession chamber.

Real stories.

By the time my husband kissed my cold forehead, I had already heard him sell my death twice: once to the doctor and once to God.

I lay inside my silk-lined coffin, paralyzed from the throat down to my toes, while four hundred mourners wept for a woman who was not dead.continue reading …