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”
“We were organizing some paperwork.
We’d have found a reasonable way to sort it all out afterward.”
“Sort out what?
My house?
My insurance?
Your relationship with my sister?”
“Delilah was never my lover the way you’re imagining.”
“That’s a great comfort,” I said.
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