“I understand,” I said.

He turned and left the room, his heavy steps fading down the tiled corridor.

Sarah Jenkins sat down in the chair next to my bed.

“Now, Marissa,” she said, opening a new page on her pad.

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“Tell me about the first time Landon restricted your access to things.”

I took a deep breath, looking at the tiny baby under the blue lights.

“It started,” I said, “the day we came home from the hospital.”

As I began to speak, the backup phone in my hand vibrated again.

It wasn’t a text this time.

The screen lit up with an incoming call.

The caller ID displayed Landon’s name.

I stared at the screen.

Landon’s name flashed in bold black letters.

The phone buzzed against my palm, a dull, heavy vibration that felt like a threat.

“Don’t touch it,” Sarah said softly.

Her hand reached out, gently pressing mine down onto the hospital bedsheet.

“Let it ring out, Marissa.”

I watched the screen pulse, the backlight casting a pale glow over my knuckles.