Jennifer visited a psychic of some local repute. In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, the mystic delivered grave news:

"There's no easy way to say this, so I'll just be blunt -- prepare yourself to be a widow. Your husband will die a violent and horrible death this year."

Visibly shaken, Jennifer stared at the woman's lined face, then at the single flickering candle, then down at her hands. She took a few deep breaths to compose herself.

She simply had to know. She met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice, and asked:

"Will I be acquitted?"


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