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…”
The mask slipped, revealing the architecture beneath. In place of the husband I thought I knew was an expression of supreme, unadulterated boredom. It was the chilling, blank visage of a predator who had missed a kill and was merely annoyed by the inconvenience.
“He survived,” Mark muttered, staring blankly at continue reading …
