Chapter 1 - The Sound of Metal
The metal broom handle hit my shoulder before my husband even looked up from his phone.
I stumbled against the kitchen island. My coffee spilled across the floor, hot enough to sting my ankle. Diane Whitcomb lifted the handle again.
"You will apologize," she said.
"For what? Not giving you my house?"
Ryan stood beside the refrigerator, silent. Four years of marriage, and he couldn't even meet my eyes.
The handle came down. I caught it with both hands, twisted it free, and shoved Diane away. She fell against a dining chair. I had not struck her, but she screamed as though I'd broken something.
Ryan grabbed my arm. "What is wrong with you?"
I slapped him. Hard. The sound stopped all three of us.
"You watched your mother attack your wife."
"She's sixty-two, Lena. You need to apologize."
I looked at his fingers digging into my sleeve, at Diane struggling to get upright, at the wedding photo on the kitchen wall. In that photograph, Ryan had promised I'd never have to face anything alone again.
I pulled free, crossed the room, and hit the red security button beside the back door.
The alarm screamed through the house.
"You're being dramatic," Diane snapped.
I pointed above the kitchen door. "Tell that to the camera."
Ryan's head jerked up. For the first time, his face showed something besides irritation.
Two guards from our gated neighborhood arrived ninety seconds later. I showed them the bruising already rising on my shoulder and told them Diane and Ryan were not welcome inside my home. They escorted both outside while a patrol officer was dispatched.
Diane shouted that I'd regret humiliating her. Ryan kept staring at the small black camera mounted above the frame.
May you like
As the guards led him down the porch steps, he whispered something I was never supposed to hear.
"That camera was unplugged yesterday."
