It’s been a week since Lauren McCluskey was cruelly and senselessly slain. I did not know Lauren, nor her killer. However, I am gripped by a terrible melancholy and I am compelled to speak.
My fellow woman is dead, and I perceive this to be not only the workings of a killer, but also of a deep and terrible societal ill. I do not absolve him of his crime by any measure, but the fear of this type of murder among women existed long before.
Lauren’s death appears to be a crime of retribution by a man who misrepresented himself and deceived her.