From Widow to Warrior

rable silence left by my husband, Ethan, trying t

just alter my morning; it utterly ann

and a marriage certificate in her hand - a document dated years before min

y home, our savings, every shared dream for a futu

my back, carrying only a permanent limp, a painful, ironic souven

ublic shame, and the utter, soul-destroying injust

oded, swallow

y all-consuming blackness, as a brain aneu

t short, the ultimate price

wh

h a cruel and undeserved end, whil

iliar floral pattern of my bedroom

familiar ache, but a far gr

displayed Aug

before m

s al

as

estruction; I' d dismantle his perfect, deceitf