It is a Friday afternoon. Jenny McPherson dropped her briefcase on the kitchen table. It contained test papers from her math class that she must grade before Monday. Then Jenny went to the refrigerator and grabbed a wine bottle. She poured a half glass and drank it. Then Jenny went to the living room, took off her coat, and she removed her high heel shoes, using her feet only. She looked out through the large picture window. A few snowflakes drifted slowly to the ground while traffic was light with a median separating the street. Yes, December is knocking on the door. She looked at the clock on the wall, and she thought, Sam, should be home any minute, where the hell is he? Right now, she needs him, and she wants to talk to him. Jenny sighed, driven by utter loneliness, as the woman leaned
