Erase Me? I'll Erase You

The air in the upstairs hallway was thick with the scent of expensive perfume, and I paused, my hand hovering over my bedroom door.

For three decades, I was the unseen force behind my husband, the Governor of Texas, building his dynasty brick by painful brick.

But then, voices from my son' s room shredded that illusion: my daughters-in-law, their hushed tones revealing a chilling plot.

"Stress-induced heart failure within five years," one whispered, detailing my supposed "natural decline" as a pre-programmed exit for a new woman, Sabrina, my husband' s dead college sweetheart' s daughter.