My husband pushed me down the stairs, and as I lay shattered at the bottom, my mother-in-law called my father and said, “Come get your worthless daughter and take her back.” Dad gave her only one warning: “If she has so much as a scratch, your family will answer for it.” They laughed at him because they had absolutely no idea who my father truly was.

I stared at the two incompatible statements.

For the first time, their practiced story showed a visible seam.

PART 6

The hearing took place in a compact courtroom that smelled faintly of old paper and floor polish.

I arrived in a wheelchair because even breathing deeply hurt.

Dad walked on one side of me, Gabriel on the other.

Neither pretended I was stronger than I felt.

Martin sat across the aisle wearing the navy coat I had bought him for our seventh anniversary.