ra

Dante's chest, the very picture of a fragile, trembling thing. He held her, h

tence I'd heard a thousand times before. You're my w

her, but they seared th

ed husband. He'd flown in specialists from Johns Hopkins for Isabella. He'd bought out every digital billboard in the city t

" was laid bare, exposed under the harsh fluorescent lights of

. But his name was a constant presence, al

mask of saccharine sympathy, offered a flawless apology for the "terrible accident." S

," she'd said, her smile

glittering, transformed into a monument to their love. A massive screen on the lawn played a looping video montage: Dan

peck. It was deep, hungry, passionate. The kind of kiss

mpletely smitten," a woman whispered b

garden. But even here, she had replaced me. My beloved white lilies, the ones Dante had planted for

e's prized hunting hounds, a massive, snarling beast. It barreled

la scr

diate instinct was to move in front of his wife

und. He saw the dog.

t lunged, its teeth sinking into the soft flesh of

n my heart was