“You do not know how she spoke about you. Nick’s invalid wife. Frigid—won’t even touch him. He deserves better. That’s what she used to say.” Those Tarot cards were right all those years ago about my future. Death. Because Nick and I got married, a woman is dead. But he wasn’t the one who killed her. It was Greta. Greta reaches deep into the pocket of her long black wool coat. She pulls out a rectangular sign with the familiar words “DO NOT DISTURB” stenciled on it. She holds it out to me.
