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I was resentful. I was desperate. So I did the most rational thing: l urged my husband to somehow be less awesome.

The court case seemed open-and-shut. There was no way he could lose. But Moshe didn’t count on the fact that he was dealing with a professional con artist

Life on a planet called the NICU. Excerpts from an informal diary, a glimpse into that world of tubes and monitors, tears and prayers

Visions of burning shuls, looted stores, smashed homes, and men carted off can never be erased. Eighty years later, eyewitnesses recall the Night of Broken Glass

I smiled back, Zevi’s calm tamping down the irritation that had started to bubble up again — and that I’d been trying so carefully to hide. After all, I didn’t want the boy I was ...

As the hours pass, my internal narrator begins to sound a little like Good Night Moon. Goodbye laundry. Goodbye clock. Goodbye daughter wearing one yellow sock