When my shaking ten-year-old begged me to hurry home, I had no idea a nightmare was waiting. I raced inside to find my husband and child cold and motionless on the living room rug. Paramedics rushed in, but the lead officer grabbed my arm, shaking his head. “Ma’am, this wasn’t an accident…”

are entirely correct,” I said, taking one deliberate step closer to the bed. “I am incredibly difficult to kill. And I am going to dedicate the remainder of my biological life to ensuring you die slowly, forgotten, inside a six-by-nine concrete cage.”

Mark smirked, a patronizing curl of his lip. “My defense counsel is already drafting the strategy. continue reading …