The terrified, accommodating wife died in that room—completely and permanently.

I reached for my phone. I didn’t call 911 immediately. I dialed the one woman Mark had spent the last five years aggressively, methodically isolating me from.

I had no idea that by making that call, I wasn’t just asking for help. I was summoning a Category 5 hurricane that was about to permanently obliterate Mark’s entire existence.

Chapter 2: The Tactical Matriarch

The pain was blinding. It felt like a serrated blade twisting deep in my pelvis. I dragged myself painfully across the slick hardwood floor, my vision graying rapidly at the edges, fighting the overwhelming urge to simply pass out.

With trembling, bloodless fingers, I unlocked my phone. I bypassed my recent contacts and dug deep into my address book. I found the number.

I dialed my mother. Victoria Sterling.