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.

Ironically, the rehabilitation facility where she planned to hide me away sent flowers after the story reached local news.

I stepped away from fraud investigations for a while. For once, the mess I needed to examine was my own life.

So I rebuilt the house.

The garage was the first thing to change.

I stripped it down completely. The old walls came out. continue reading …