The administrator opened her laptop, tapped the screen twice, and my husband’s own voice filled the room, clear and undeniable, exactly as the camera in the bunny’s eye had caught it twenty minutes before.

Just reminding her who’s in charge of this family now. His recorded voice came off the white tile walls, unmistakable. She got a little emotional.

Just teaching her who runs things around here. Trent’s face went gray.

He looked from the laptop to the detective and back, his mouth opening and closing.

“That’s — that’s out of context,” he stammered.

“She was being hysterical.

She’s post-partum.” “You have documented bruising around your wife’s throat,” Detective Torres said, without heat, “consistent with strangulation.