But Lorraine didn’t even look at me.
“You’ll survive. We’ll be back in a couple of hours.”

And the worst part?
My husband hesitated.

“Maybe she’s right,” he whispered.

Minutes melted into hours.
Sweat drenched my skin.
I could barely stay conscious.

When my legs finally gave out and I collapsed near the front door, a miracle happened — someone saw me.

Mrs. Jenkins, our elderly neighbor, spotted me through her window.