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”

Chapter 12 — The Sister

Two days later they discharged me, and I moved into my mother’s house while the police worked through mine.

I slept with every light on.

I still do, some nights.

My sister asked to see me from her cell.

Her attorney told me she’d refused to see anyone at first — but that when she learned Christopher was trying to pin the whole thing on her, to make her the one who’d drugged me and cast himself as the horrified bystander, she changed her mind.

I agreed to go.