ore. The isolation, the

out how I was "useless" and "a burden," I confronted him dire

lt like ash in my mouth. "You have to tell me. Wh

un of some old western. H

you. W

You're destroying my lif

hard. "You deserve nothing. You're l

, Mike. Right now. I'm

p, my leg

nstant, his face contorted

nd sto

le for a man his age. He grabbed my a

ed you,

towards the kitchen.

go of

then reached for the knife block.

ld. "I told you

sed th

wards my bedroom, slamming the door and lo

roaring. "Open this door, A

, my hands slick with

t's your

o kill me! He has a knife!" I s

ine. She kept me on the phone until I h

g outside my door wh

s is the police!

I heard muffled voices

ocked gently on my bedroom door. "Ashley? It's Of

th a kind face. Another officer was handcuffing Mike in

th utter contempt, no

showing Officer Hanson the red mar

ssault and attempted murder," Officer Hans

at me, a chillingly calm expression o

She was sympathetic, assuring me

id. "And we'll need to check out that tool shed you mentioned in you

hen. But the shed...that's where it

e'll tak

nd her partner approached the tool shed. My

rol car, watched them as well. A sma

he door. It was unlocked. He wen

elt like an eternity, but w

ce was...different. Not hostile, not li

through the open window. I couldn't hear what t

back to me. Her partner w

nal demeanor slightly frayed. "Th

anding? He

shed. A surprise. He said you've been very stressed lately, and he picked

hat's a lie! He threatened

is just...a shed. Tools, some old boxes. Mr. Miller is very concerne

e house, free. He gave me a look

e now firm. "We can't get involved unless there's clear evidence

e, the taste of ashes and despair in my mouth. The system, my l