CHAPTER 2: THE RING
I didn't know where I was going.
I drove for what felt like hours, my hands gripping the steering wheel, my burned cheek throbbing with every heartbeat. The city lights blurred past me, and I felt nothing but a hollow emptiness where my heart used to be.
I had given Daniel everything.
My youth. My trust. My savings. My dignity.
And he had repaid me with coffee burns and ultimatums.
I pulled into a motel parking lot and checked into a room. It was small, dingy, and smelled like stale cigarettes. But it was safe.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at my phone.
Daniel hadn't called.
He hadn't texted.
He didn't care.
I knew that now.
I pulled out the hospital report and read it again. The words blurred together, but I forced myself to focus.
Second-degree burns to the right cheek and neck. Consistent with hot liquid exposure. Patient reported domestic violence.
Domestic violence.
I had never called it that before. I had called it "Daniel being stressed." I had called it "he didn't mean it." I had called it "I must have done something wrong."
But now, looking at the photographs of my burned skin, I couldn't pretend anymore.
He had hurt me.
And he would keep hurting me if I stayed.
I made a decision.
I was going to take everything from him.
May you like
Everything he had ever taken from me.
And I was going to do it legally.
