The Murder of My Husband
Language: en
At 11:00 AM, while my husband was slowly suffocating to death in our bathtub, I was chatting with the neighborhood moms by the playground slide. The slide was located directly beneath my bathroom window, a straight line of no more than twenty feet. If I had stuck to my usual routine and gone home at eleven sharp, I would have been in time to save his life. But as fate would have it, Jessica had just bought a new designer dress and enthusiastically invited a few of us over to admire it. By the time my daughter and I walked through our front door at 11:10 AM, my husband had already drawn his…