My Childhood Sweetheart Asked Me to Sign a Special Folder in Room Four Hundred Seven

toward me, his fingers curling into fists.

“You made a vow on that altar,” he said, his voice dropping to a low hiss. “In sickness and in health.”

“There is no sickness, Ben,” I said.

He let out a short, harsh laugh that sounded like dry leaves scraping across pavement.

“You always were too soft for this world, Sarah,” he said. “You think this ends with continue reading …