A Case for Wrongful Death
Connie rocked back and forth on the faded velvet sofa in her sister Lois’s living room. It was summer, 1940. “Maybe you’re wrong,” Lois said. “I missed twice. I never missed before.” “You might just be nervous, the wedding coming and all,” Lois said. “I threw up yesterday.” “See there? Could be nerves.” Connie reached over and clutched Lois’s arm. “Tell me what to do.” Lois was a married lady, her big sister. She’d know. “Have you told George?” Connie shook her head. Lois pulled her sister close and kissed her damp cheek. “Good. Wait ‘til after...
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