At the funeral, I later found out that my husband, **Michael Carter**, showed no trace of grief.
“They both froze to death,” he said flatly. “That useless woman finally got what she deserved.”
Those words still replay in my mind like a curse.
Only hours before, I had been begging him to stop the argument and take me home. We were standing at the edge of a frozen cliff in **Rocky Mountain National Park, Colorado**, surrounded by endless white silence. Then, without warning, he shoved me hard.