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 did not see it immediately.

Ortiz first asked whether I wanted to watch.

I said yes, with Gabriel beside me, though I knew it might upset me.

At the top of the frame, I appeared in a green sweater, moving toward the stairwell.

Martin came behind me.

The angle showed his hand closing around my upper arm.

I turned, tried to pull free, and stepped backward.

Then he thrust his arm forward.