The sight of my own home chills me to my core. I’m sitting here in Dwight’s Ford Fiesta, parked up in my driveway behind my pink Jeep, home at last. But, I shouldn’t be, not with him, not like this. I ease myself out of the passenger seat and stand on the driveway facing my garage, all too sharply aware of my crumpled hospital gown and the stripper heels in my grasp. The morning sun is hot on my skin, and I feel dizzy and disoriented. I hope the neighbors aren’t watching from behind their blinds.
Then again, maybe I should be hoping they are watching, because something is wrong with the situation I’m in. Very wrong indeed.
areDwight comes up behind me. Tension knots my muscles. He pushes me forward, and pushes me forward again, forcing me to my front door.
“How will I…”
My voice trails
