Three Wishes

by Liane Moriarty

That was the Christmas Lyn discovered the horrible pleasure of martyrdom.

She turned on the “tranquility sounds” CD she’d bought as part of achieving her New Year’s resolution: Reduce stress in measurable, tangible ways, both professional and personal, by no later than 1 March.

Death was the hot bath you promised yourself while you endured small talk and uncomfortable shoes. You could stop pretending to have a good time when you were dead.