I’m standing in the middle of our living room looking at my husband’s dead body in front of me.I know it’s my husband. I know he’s dead. What I don’t know is whether I killed him.How did it all go so wrong?There’s so much blood. Soaking into our white carpet.I try to clean up the mess, scrubbing away at the blood, wondering how I got here.Am I really as crazy as he’s been making out all this time?
