/0/83938/coverbig.jpg?v=9f2de51d6cb917ffea647876e61abb07)
lity to the grief already heavy on my s
my husband, Ethan, a rising politi
e he was too busy, later revealing hi
lly told him I was done, not real
is voice sharp and dismissive, just
over the urn holding the ashes of our first lost baby, and Ethan rushing to comfort
insidious, lurking beneath
evealing his chilling plan, had sha
: "...She' s useful
ef
a living incubator to harvest cor
wasn't
ield to be plowed
instant, brutal
only certainty I had left in a
new, it was t

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