Three Days Before the Casket Was Delivered, My Son Asked Me to Sign a Document
He checked her eyes with a little flashlight, then raised her wrist.
Then the key came back to me.
It was still in my cardigan pocket, warm from my hand.
“This opened the restraint,” I said, and laid the brass key in Paul’s palm.
“It was tucked under the lining.”
Victoria’s voice carried from the hallway.
“I put that key in there.
In case she got stuck.”
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