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At 11 a.m., while my husband was slowly suffocating in the bathtub, I was down by the playground slide in our apartment complex, chatting with the other moms. The slide sat directly beneath the bathroom window of our unit—no more than a few dozen feet away in a straight line. If I had gone home at 11 as I usually did, I could have saved his life. But that day, Lily’s mom had just bought a new dress. She was so enthusiastic, she invited several of us to her place to admire it. At 11:10, when my daughter and I finally got home, my husband was already dead. At the funeral, I was inconsolable—collapsing again and again, grief knocking me unconscious. Everyone pitied me. Everyone sighed. My mother-in-law, Linda Carter, an elementary school principal whom I had never met in person, traveled all the way from the far Northwest. In front of everyone, she walked straight up to me. Her expression was resolute. Word by word, she said: “You are the murderer who killed my son.” more content： APP：wonderfnovel search 8290895597 #novel #novelshort #stories #story #storytime #wonderfnovel