“You’ve always been in the way,” my sister whispered, shoving me out of the chopper while my husband watched, silent and complicit for the $5M payout. Everyone thought I was dead. But when I pushed open the church doors during my funeral service, my husband went pale. I locked eyes with him and said…

adversary was the broken femur. Left unsecured, a fractured major bone could sever an artery and bleed me out internally in minutes. Sweating through rolling waves of nausea, I dragged myself toward a cluster of thick, broken branches. I tore the remaining sleeves from my ruined blazer, twisting the fabric into crude tourniquets. Biting down on a piece continue reading …