My fingers wrap around the stone in my pocket, your sticky blood still warm to the touch.
I was going to throw it in the lake, alongside your bound and weighted body, but I decided to keep it instead. A reminder of the day I finally found the courage to do what I should’ve done years ago.
I’m thinking of putting it on the mantelpiece, alongside that hideous clock your mother gave us as a wedding present. Like our marriage, it never worked.
They’ll be a constant reminder to me of the two women I hated most in this world.