His Fake Death, Her Real Power

The call came on a Tuesday, the day before my wedding.

My fiancé, David, was dead, killed in a gang shootout.

My world shattered; I was five months pregnant, and the grief choked me so completely I tried to take my own life six times.

Why was this pain so absolute, so suffocating, when his mother' s eyes were dry and his twin brother, Mark, couldn' t even be bothered to come home for the funeral?

Then, late one night, I heard hushed voices from the study-David' s mother and a voice that was undeniably David' s.

"You can't keep this up, David," she said.

My blood ran cold.