Just 11 minutes after I returned from the hospital with a shattered femur, my mother-in-law kicked my crutches away. Ignoring my agonized screams, she and my husband dragged me into a pitch-black garage.

my coat pocket, removed my phone, smiled, and slipped it into her purse.

Caleb stood in the doorway, framed by the warm light inside the house. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be. Sleep it off.”

I looked up at him through shallow, broken breaths. “You already made it as bad as it can be.”

Something flickered across his face.

Maybe guilt.

Maybe fear.continue reading …