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.

“Tell me about the stairs,” Gabriel said.

“Start earlier than you think you need to.”

So I told him about the argument in the upstairs study.

Martin had been angry because I had questioned a transfer from our daughter’s education savings.

He claimed the money was temporary working capital for the family property company.

When I asked for paperwork, Celeste appeared at the top of the staircase and accused me of embarrassing her son.

Martin followed me as I tried to leave.