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.

over the house.

Detective Hale crouched beside me and gently draped his jacket over my shoulders.

“Paramedics are here,” he said gently. “You did good, Audrey.”

I closed my eyes. “I just want my house back, Marcus.”

“It’s yours,” he said. “It always was.”

When the paramedics lifted me onto the stretcher, agony shot through my leg once more—bright, vicious,continue reading …