During a recent publicity outing, Hillary sneaked off 
to visit a fortune teller of some local reputation: 
In a dark and hazy room, peering into a crystal ball, 
the mystic delivered grave news. As the mystic took 
her reading, she had a struck look on her face, looked up 
and said, "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, Hillary stared at the woman's wrinkled face, 
then at the single flickering candle on the table. Looking 
aside for a moment, Hillary then looked back down to her 
wringing hands in her lap. She took a few deep breaths to 
compose herself and consider her question; she just had to know. 


Hillary met the fortune teller's gaze, steadied her voice, and 
asked her question: "Will I be acquitted?" 











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