My Husband Said the Funeral Van Would Take Me to a Clinic—Then a Loose White Cord Gave Me a Chance to Get Out
I asked him to call an ambulance again.
This time he did not offer an estimate.
He came around with Arthur, and together they moved me from the bench into the casket.
The lining smelled of glue and stored fabric.
I tried to sit up, but David put a hand against my shoulder.
“Only three miles.
It is the only way to keep the family safe.”
Not the baby.