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?"