Chapter 1 - The Shattered Home.
I was supposed to be at a corporate conference in Chicago until tomorrow morning.
A canceled flight brought me back to my quiet suburban house much earlier than expected.
I walked through the front door, slipping off my heels to avoid waking up my seven-year-old daughter, Sophie.
Instead of silence, I heard strange, muffled noises coming from the living room.
I crept down the hallway and froze in absolute horror.
My husband, Ryan, was passionately kissing a blonde woman on our expensive velvet couch.
I recognized her instantly as Jessica, the new real estate agent he had been working with.
Before I could even scream, a tiny voice broke the disgusting moment.
"You're cheating on Mommy!" Sophie cried out from the staircase.
She ran forward and shoved Jessica away from her father.
Ryan’s face twisted into an ugly mask of pure rage.
He raised his hand and slapped our little girl right across the face.
"Don't touch Jessica!" he shouted as Sophie hit the floor crying.
A blinding, primal fury completely took over my mind and body.
I stormed across the room and slapped him so hard he tumbled backward over the coffee table.
"That was for Sophie," I hissed through clenched teeth.
Jessica suddenly lunged at me, grabbing a fistful of my hair.
I slapped her away and violently shoved her onto the exact same carpet where my daughter had just fallen.
Ryan charged at me like a madman, aiming a heavy punch at my head.
I sidestepped his clumsy attack and drove my knee fiercely into his stomach.
He collapsed instantly, gasping for air and clutching his gut in agony.
Sophie ran into my arms, trembling like a fragile leaf in a winter storm.
"Please don't let Daddy hit me again," she sobbed into my shoulder.
"He never will," I promised, holding her incredibly tightly.
I grabbed Ryan's wedding ring off the side table, snatched their coats, and threw everything out the front door.
I shoved both of them onto the freezing porch and slammed the heavy oak door shut.
I quickly engaged the deadbolt and the heavy chain lock.
Ryan started pounding aggressively on the glass, demanding that I let him back inside his own house.
I stared at him through the window and simply pointed toward the blinking camera mounted in the corner of the living room.
"Explain everything to the police," I shouted through the thick glass.
Ryan stopped pounding, and a wicked, arrogant smirk slowly spread across his bruised face.
He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a quick message.
My phone buzzed in my pocket a second later.
May you like
I opened the text from Ryan and felt my blood run completely cold.
It was a screenshot showing the living room camera had been manually disabled three hours before I got home.
