My Husband Autopsied Our Love
Language: en
My soul was suspended in mid-air, hovering just beneath the yellow crime scene tape as the white tarp slowly descended. The baby, three months along and perfectly safe inside me until moments ago, was supposed to be my anniversary surprise for Victor tomorrow. But now, my baby and I were both dead. Pushed off the roof by my husband's obsessed admirer. Through the chaos of the flashing sirens, Victor walked toward me. He wore his signature black wool coat, his expression a mask of absolute, chilling stoicism as he parted the sea of uniform cops. His eyes fell onto the white sheet covering…