Everyone Thought I Couldn’t Survive Without My Husband’s Money — I’d Quietly Built My Own Exit Years Before

“Is Sienna all right?” she asked him.

“Is she okay?”

And Julian put both his arms around Eleanor, there in the corridor outside my injured son’s room, and he said, warmly, reassuringly, with something that sounded horribly like pride: “She’s fine.

Don’t worry.

I made sure I got her out first.”

I made sure I got her out first.