She Lit the First Candle at My Father’s Memorial. Then the Chaplain Opened His Final Visitor Log.
His mistress lit the first candle at my father’s memorial and called herself his second daughter. The room went so quiet I could hear the rain tapping against the stained-glass windows of St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church, could hear my wedding ring knock once against the wooden pew when my hand went numb. My husband, Evan…
