able, two chairs. The air was cold and smelled faintly of stale coffee and

was a risk, but a necessary one. A lawyer would imply I had something to hide

k for a long time, just watched me. I met his gaze,

e table. He opened it and began t

. A family court

. A social wor

relation. A police

m all walks of life. A therapist, a lawyer, a city official, two of David's old business partner

se people, Sarah

y prison, the ones who had bolted the doors and thrown away the key. The judge who had dismissed my restraining order. The soci

ny of them before. They're the people from the

me, as if the thought was t

uying it. He pushed another photo fo

ing room. His eyes were open, staring at nothing. The fro

asked, his voice sharp.

usband, the monster who had tormented me for fifteen years, and I let o

ience of one. But it was a good performance. I had years of practice

tone changing. He was moving in for the kill. "And we found somet

he table. It was a police report. A dome

ANT: Sar

0 Ocean Driv

hysically assaulted complainant. C

ller appeared emotional and unstable. No visible injuries.

ctly. David had thrown me against a wall, his hands tight around my throat, because his dinner was

his wife was just "a little high-strung." And I, with my wild eyes and desperate pleas, look

on said quietly. "But you look like a happy couple. Prominent family. Charity

und the first crack in my story. The first loo