I went to work that Friday satisfied with my life. I had a smart, charming husband who told me he loved me each day; a happy, healthy first-grader with a wiggly front tooth; a nice old house in a quiet neighborhood; and lots of friends.
It was a good life.
I came home that night to six police officers crammed shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room, interrogating my husband and searching our home. They opened every cupboard, overturned every basket, and pulled every file. They…Continue