I couldn’t speak with the lump in my throat anyway. It was exactly what I was thinking during my run that morning, what if Alicia were home alone in...tead of at work. ‘And, um, I don’t expect anyone to believe me because I have said this all before, but I want to get better. I want to be healthy and not do this anymore. But I’ve said that before and my family won’t believe me, but I do mean it, Ray.’ She had been speaking slowly, hesitantly – I think the word is haltingly – but the last few. As I trod up Broadway towards Central Park, I was numb to all the sounds that surrounded me. It had been four years since Frank had died, but his presence still haunted me daily. I was doing, of all things, the laundry, when I got the call. “Mrs. Ketchum.” “Yes.” “Is Frank Ketchum your husband?” “Y-y-yes, is there something wrong?” “Mrs. Ketchum, this is Sgt Cochrane of the N.Y.P.D. I’m awfully sorry to have to tell you that your husband has been in a serious accident and has been taken to the. More

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