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.

on my face to the hospital band still circling my wrist. Disgust twisted her features as if I were dirt contaminating her floor.

“You heard me, Audrey. The master bedroom is too far for you. You’re unstable. The stairs are dangerous.”

“There are no stairs to the master bedroom,” I said weakly. “It’s on the first floor.”

A thin, cruel smile appeared. “Exactly.continue reading …