Killed by His Fix
In the final second before the elevator crashed down, my husband finally picked up my desperate call for help.
I begged him, who was in charge of elevator maintenance, to save me.
"That elevator was just serviced. What game are you playing?" he snapped. "Wasn't your silent treatment so strong? Keep going and stop bothering me. It's Marina's birthday today."
I never reached out to him again. I died.
Later, he'd have given anything just to see me one more time.