mber t

g crack as my head hit the marble staircase. The last thing I saw was his face, twisted not with remors

th her rabbit food... I coul

nsequences of his own self-indulgence. And David, my husband, the man who swore to protect me, believed him. He chose his father's dying

the sunligh

e white of a hospital ceiling or the void of the afterlife, but to the familiar silk s

caught in

oms, was finally dragged to a doctor and diagnosed with severe type 2 diabetes. The day I,

and sharp it almost hurt. I had been given a second chanc

I would d

et him ea

astries for lunch, a pint of premium ice cream before bed. He believed his wealth was a shield, that the rules of biology simply didn't apply to him. His wife, Eleanor, my mother-in-law, ena

ubbornness for strength. He saw any attempt to impose limits on Richard as an attack on th

d dump in the trash. I coordinated with his doctors, managed his medications, and pleaded with him to take a simple walk. My reward was his cons

for family harmony. I got

h the show. With a knowing smile, I got out of bed, ready for the