I Came Home From My Mother-in-Law’s Funeral—And My Husband Gave Me 48 Hours to Leave The smell of wet earth still clung to my coat when I stepped back into our split-level in Westerville, just outside Columbus. I expected silence. Instead, my living room looked staged. Ryan sat on the couch. His sister Karen beside him. A man in a charcoal suit near the window. On the coffee table—papers. Perfectly stacked. No one hugged me. No one said they were sorry. Ryan looked up, and his voice felt like frost.…
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