During Robert’s Funeral, My Sons Stood By The Casket With Dry Eyes And Perfect Black Suits…

The message read:

“The body in the casket isn’t mine.”

I felt the cab sink beneath my feet.

I didn’t scream because my voice was completely gone. I just clutched the cell phone to my chest and stared out the rear window. The Greenwich house faded into the distance, its lights glaring like eyes watching from the dark.

Richard stood on the sidewalk, getting continue reading …