My husband was playing Truth or Dare with his first love at a bar. He lied to my mother, telling her I’d miscarried, and made her rush over through the snow. She died in a car crash on her way to the hospital. When I arrived, blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth, and her hand was still clutching the nourishing soup she’d brought me. Trembling, I called my husband, but all I could hear was loud music and laughter. Then a coquettish voice came over the line. He had no idea my mother’s funeral was tomorrow.
