My legs felt like lead, and the hospital gown was thin against the drafty hallway air.

We bypassed the nurse’s station, ignoring the calls of the staff behind us.

The elevator ride down to the garage felt like it took an eternity.

The gray Columbus sky was visible through the glass windows, spitting a cold, miserable sleet.

Wyatt opened the passenger door of his SUV and helped me inside.

He turned the heater on high, the warm air blasting against my freezing skin.

“Are you sure about this, Sadie?” he asked, looking at me with deep concern.

“I’ve never been surer of anything,” I said.

He put the car in drive, the tires spinning slightly on the wet pavement as we sped out of the garage.

The drive to my childhood home was silent, the windshield wipers slapping a steady rhythm against the glass.

I stared at my reflection in the side mirror, seeing the dark bruises forming on my neck.

My own mother had done that to me.

My own sister had watched and laughed.

We turned onto the tree-lined street of my family’s estate.