One Last Litany
After my husband's first love, Sydney Edwards, used me as a walking blood bank, I died in the run-down rental apartment my billionaire husband, Casper Hawthorne, had tossed me into like it was a blessing for me.
Today was the third day since I had died.
My six-year-old son, Adam, finally realized something was wrong.
He had cut his finger while playing with his toys, yet I did not comfort him.
He tore open a packet of crackers and raised one to my mouth to feed me, but I did not stop him.
He lay in my arms, clutching my clothes and whispering for me. Still, I did not answer.
Lost and panicking, he found my phone and called his father, Casper. "Dad, why is Mom still sleeping?"
The man
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