Only I Didn't Get the Script
After my family went bankrupt, my wife, Claire Finley, was drowned in the river by debt collectors. To pay off our debts, I took on a job at an underground casino as a human punching bag.
Every punch I took earned me 50 bucks.
Then, one day, I'm about to deliver drinks to a private room. Through the crack in the door, I see Claire—supposedly dead—sitting in the seat of honor, leisurely sipping a glass of fine red wine.
"It's been over three years since I last saw Nathan. I wonder how he's doing."
Dad, dressed in a sharp suit despite our family's so-called bankruptcy, sighs.
"He's probably been hiding away, grieving for a few years. Once he gets over it, he can always find someone else.