They Held My Funeral While I Was Still Breathing. Then My Seven-Year-Old Nephew Looked Into the Coffin and Said, “Mommy, Aunt Madelyn Is Looking at Me”
The last thing I could remember was the night before.
My younger sister, Delilah, had come by with a mug of warm milk and cinnamon, pressed into my hands with her softest voice, because I looked so tired, she said.
And later that night I’d had a bad argument with my husband.
I had found a wire transfer in our checking account — forty-two thousand dollars, moved out without a word to me — and when I asked Christopher about it, he swore it was a routine business payment.
I told him to show me the receipt right then, that night, and watched something flicker behind his eyes that I did not have a name for yet.