My husband had been 𝕕𝕣𝕦𝕘𝕘𝕚𝕟𝕘 me every night… One day, I pretended to swallow the pill and lay still, fully awake. I watched him leave the bedroom at 2 a.m. I followed him downstairs, and what I saw there left me completely frozen…

I backed up the staircase. His steps matched mine. No hurry. No fear. As if he were reeling in something he owned.

“You tracked me,” I said through a rising wave of panic. “You wrote reports about me.”

“You needed structure,” he said. “And I am the only one who can provide it.”

I turned and ran. Not toward the front door. The deadbolt stuck sometimes. I would never make it in time. Instead I sprinted down the hallway toward the study. My feet barely touched the floor. When I slammed the door shut, the frame rattled. I twisted the lock with trembling fingers.

The window was my only chance.

I shoved it open and climbed. The cold night air hit me like a slap. My foot slipped against the sill. I fell into the hedge below and landed hard on my ankle. Pain radiated up my leg. I forced myself upright and limped into the darkness.

Behind me, the front door opened. Silas stepped outside.