It was a usual Saturday morning. I lay in my restful bed feeling comforted, as it seems to cradle me in its soft hands. I felt alone. My long-term boyfriend, Michael, and I were fighting again. I changed into my yoga attire, slipped on my remarkable red Nikes and drove off to the gym. I was instructing a yoga class for the elderly this morning. They whipped out their yoga mats and the class had begun. “Okay ladies, let’s start off by easing into the downward dog pose” About twenty minutes into the session, my phone rang. It was Michael. “What? I’m busy!” I furiously whispered, while the ladies wheezed as they elongated their arms forward. “Good morning, Miss Robertson. This is Pete, Head Chief of the Chicago Police department. I regret to