During a recent publicity outing, Jennifer sneaked off to visit a 
 fortune teller 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 
 her question. 
 
 
 "Will I be acquitted?"