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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.

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the hidden latch.

Nothing.

I pushed harder.

Finally, it clicked.

The panel lifted slightly.

Hooking my bruised fingers beneath it, I pulled.

Pain tore through me so brutally I nearly vomited, but I kept going until the safe was exposed.

Small.

Fireproof.

Bolted into the foundation of my grandfather’s house.

My fingers found the keypad.

I pressed the wake button.continue reading …

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