My Husband Said the Funeral Van Would Take Me to a Clinic—Then a Loose White Cord Gave Me a Chance to Get Out
A restraint around my ankle was not a seat belt or medical care.
Clara’s fingers trembled.
She started to form a knot, then left part of the loop loose beneath my skirt.
For one second she looked up at me.
I did not know what she meant by the look.
I knew she was doing something I had asked her not to do.
The van stopped.
Arthur switched off the headlights.