The Day The Elevator Broke

The elevator jolted, groaned, and then stopped.

My breath hitched as the lights flickered and died, plunging me into absolute darkness and the icy grip of claustrophobia.

Frantic, I called my husband, David, for help, certain he' d be my rescuer.

Instead, his voice, impatient and dismissive, carried the faint sound of music and a woman' s laughter – Ashley, his young assistant.

"Look, Sarah, I can' t right now," he said, explaining he was taking Ashley, who was faking a cold, to get medicine.

He chose his assistant over his wife, gasping for air and pleading for help.

Then he hung up.