floor using my forearms.
Then something else slowly crept in.
Each movement was slow, painful, and humiliating. My arms burned almost immediately, but I kept going.
The hallway felt longer than it ever had before, and halfway down, I heard something.
A woman’s voice. Soft. Close. Coming from the garage.
My blood felt like it had frozen.
Then I heard Terry laugh — low, almost careful, as if he didn’t want it to carry through the house.
I felt a sharp and immediate pain inside.
My husband wasn’t alone.
I heard
