Editor

Editor

A year after she stole my husband, my former best friend mailed me an invitation to her baby shower. “Come celebrate our little blessing,” she wrote, adding a smiley face. “Sorry you couldn’t give him a son.” I stared at the open envelope on my kitchen counter and let out a soft laugh.

Chapter 1: The Anatomy of a Verdict It was the specific breed of autumn rain that stripped Chicago of its color, reducing the skyline to a bruised watercolor. Outside my…
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