“I’m asking you nicely.

Because if you turn this into a criminal investigation, there will be divorce papers waiting for you tomorrow morning, and my attorneys will make very sure that you walk away from this marriage with nothing at all.”

I touched my lip.

My fingers came away with a little blood on them.

And I understood, finally and completely, that the man I had married would let me be struck in a hallway and threaten me over my own child’s death, and that whatever was happening here was far larger and far worse than a malfunctioning lock.

Chapter 8 — The Records