Wallace's Point-of-ViewIt was 10:00 pm when I returned home with my son, Daniel Brown. I opened the door, only to find that it was completely dark inside. I furrowed my brow as I flicked on the light, asking, "Why didn't you turn the lights on, Meryl? You do know that the baby's due in a week, right? What if you trip and hurt yourself?"Without waiting for my wife, Meryl Stewart, to respond, I added, "Go heat up some milk for Daniel, and then prepare a cup of hot coffee for me."At the time, I had no idea that Meryl had already been rushed to surgery and was lying unconscious in the operating room. She was covered in wounds beyond count, the blood staining her clothes completely.Daniel and I waited, but the usual prompt reply from Meryl never came. My irritation flared at the delay.Daniel called out softly toward the room, asking, "Where did you go, Mommy? I want to drink some milk."Upon hearing no response from Meryl, I instantly furrowed my brow. Marching straight to her
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