I heard Frank’s heavy boots in the hallway. I dragged myself to the door, my head throbbing with a sickening pulse, and told them I’d call someone, that I had a phone.

Frank just laughed, a low sound that vibrated through the wood. “And what exactly are you going to do with a phone, sweetheart? Call the local police and tell them you’re clumsy and fell again?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, a tear hot with rage sliding down my cheek. I knew the script by heart. I’d recited it in emergency rooms for years.

I fell. I tripped on the rug. I bruise so easily, doctor. I’m just terribly uncoordinated.

They had built a fortress of lies around me. What Frank, Linda, and my violently arrogant husband didn’t realize was that tonight, the script had been burned.

I had already told the absolute truth without saying a single audible word.