“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…

crowd thins out. We need them relaxed. We need them arrogant.”

We parked two blocks from the stone chapel Brent had selected. The irony burned; it was the same chapel where we had exchanged our vows. I limped up the stone path, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my bruised ribs.

Slipping through the heavy oak doors, we took seats in the desolate continue reading …