At my husband’s funeral, my mother-in-law looked me straight in the eye and coldly said, “It’s better for him to d:ie now than to live with the humiliation she brought upon him.”

coffin lid.

Then his right hand shifted.

Two fingers tapped slowly against the satin lining.

Once. Twice. Pause. Once.

Our private signal from years before, created during long charity dinners when one of us needed the other to stay calm.

Keep quiet. Trust me.

My heartbeat slammed against my ribs.

Daniel was alive.

I lowered my eyes before Margaret could see continue reading …