My husband controlled and ab:us:ed me every day. One day, I fainted. He rushed me to the hospital, putting on a perfect act: “She fell down the stairs.” But he didn’t expect the doctor to notice signs that only a trained eye could catch. He didn’t ask me anything — he looked straight at him and called security: “Lock the door. Call the police.”

streak above her as though the house itself were sliding out of place.

She remembered trying to breathe. She remembered her body refusing.

After that, there was darkness. Not peaceful darkness, not sleep, but the heavy, dropping kind that swallowed sound first and then everything else.

When Hannah came back, she was moving. Her head rolled weakly against continue reading …