Every time my brother-in-law drove me home, I would lose consciousness and wake up with unexplained aches and pains. My husband would only laugh and say, “You’re just out of shape, that’s all.” After the fourth ride, I secretly slipped a voice recorder into my purse and said nothing. That night, I listened to a phone conversation between the two of them that revealed my blackouts had never been accidental.

“He said you’re staying with strangers and refusing his help,” she said.

“Sofia, what is going on?”

I took a breath.

“Mom, I believe someone has been harming me.

The police are investigating, and I’m safe with Priya.”

There was silence, then the scrape of a chair.

“Is Julian involved?”

“Yes.”