I was buttoning up my coat to go to my husband’s funeral when my grandson burst into the garage, pale as a ghost. “Grandma, don’t start the car! Please don’t!”

“A rag. It was stuck in the car’s exhaust pipe,” he said, swallowing hard. “And it was your car. Nobody else uses it.”

Helen felt a sudden wave of dizziness wash over her.

“Are you saying… someone tried…?”

Lucas nodded slowly.

“If you’d started the engine with the garage door closed, you wouldn’t have gotten out of there. The mechanic says that can kill you in minutes.”