And then, before he could produce any receipt, an enormous and unnatural tiredness came down over me like a curtain, heavier than any sleep I’d ever felt, and pulled me under.

I understand now what that tiredness was.

At the time I only knew that I could not keep my eyes open, and that my husband was watching me fail to keep them open with an expression I would spend a long time afterward trying to forget.

I went to sleep in my own bed, drugged, beside the man who had drugged me.

I woke in a box in my mother’s living room while the people I loved most in the world sorted through what I’d left behind.