She had been abused, and her hip bones and spine jutted out from under her marbled coat. I can see November 2015: My car is in the driveway and I am in the house alone or with my 3-year-old son. The pine tree by the front door is smothered in a cotton spider web my husband and children stretched across it. He’s probably napping, or maybe we are stacking his bright wooden blocks on the playroom carpet. Maybe it lights up when my husband texts to tell me if he’ll be home for dinner or not to wait.

Source: New York Times January 04, 2019 05:00 UTC