“The stress of your failing marriage, combined with your history of anxiety, has caused you to suffer a severe breakdown.”

“We will argue that your injuries were the result of a tragic domestic accident.”

“An accident that you have delusionalized into an assault to punish your husband’s family.”

He paused, letting the words hang in the sterile air of the room.

“If this goes to a public courtroom, your reputation will be destroyed,” Vance continued.

“You will never practice law again.”

“No firm will ever hire a woman who uses false allegations to settle a marital dispute.”

“But it doesn’t have to go that far.”

“Drop the criminal charges against Margaret, and we can discuss a quiet, generous divorce settlement.”

I looked at the pale green walls of the burn unit.

I felt no fear, only a cold, sharp clarity.

“Mr. Vance,” I said.

“Yes, Natalie?”

“Exactly three minutes ago, I sent an email to Detective Sullivan and the assistant district attorney.”

The line remained silent for a long moment.

“What email?” Vance asked, his voice losing its smooth polish.

“I attached fifty-three separate audio files,” I said.