Chapter 1

My husband had my dog burned. Then he took away my antidepressants.

He promised he'd never leave me. He promised he'd stay until I got better. But when his best friend Clara—a psychiatric nurse—told him I was faking my depression, he believed her. He believed her when she said I was crazy. He believed her when she said I needed treatment.

So he signed the papers. He locked me in a psych ward. He let them strap me to a bed and use my mother's suicide video as therapy. He let them shock me until I couldn't remember my own name.

I begged him to stop. I told him I was pregnant. He said, "Hold on a little longer. Once you're cured, we can have a normal life."

I lost the baby on that table. I lost my dog. I lost five years to a man who chose his best friend over his wife.

But I didn't die. When I walked out of that hospital, I dropped the old pill bottle into the trash. I left him behind.

Later, he learned the truth. He came to me in tears, begging me to forgive him.

But I was already gone.

————

Nora's POV

I held Buddy's lifeless body against me. Grief came over me in a rush. I wanted to cry out, but I couldn't make a sound.

Clara Vale curled her lip. "Some people will make a scene over anything. It's just a dog. If it hadn't been poisoned, I'd have had it put down anyway."

For a moment, pity flickered across Evan Hale's face. He came forward, reaching to help me up out of habit.

"Come on. Get up. We can talk."

Then he turned to the housekeeper. "Helen, take the dog out. Throw it away."

"Don't touch Buddy!" I screamed.

I wrapped my arms tighter around Buddy. People were still talking around me, but their voices gradually grew muffled and far away.

Mom had left Buddy to me before she died. Buddy was my emotional support dog. On the worst days, Buddy would nudge me with his wet nose until I could hold on. Those small moments had kept me going all this time.

Dad had cheated on Mom and walked away. After that, Mom and I had nobody but each other. Her depression grew severe. She slit her wrists in our bathtub. I could still see the bright red blood spilling over the rim, crossing the bathroom floor, and reaching my feet.

I fell into depression after that. Evan had asked me to marry him almost immediately.

"I won't leave you," he'd promised. "I'll be right here until you get better."

I remembered how gentle his face had been when he made that promise. Looking at the indifferent man before me now, I could hardly believe they were the same person.

Evan watched me fall apart, looking more tired than concerned.

"Will you stop? Clara's trying to help you. She's a psychiatric nurse, Nora. She works with patients like you every day. You can't rely on a dog to keep you alive forever. Buddy was always going to die one day. You need to face that."

I stared at him. My chest felt so tight I could hardly breathe. But I couldn't let myself die yet.

"Please give me back my medication."

Evan slipped a hand into his pocket. The pills rattled inside the bottle, and for a moment I thought he might actually give it back.

Clara heard the sound. "Keep giving in to her, and she'll just make bigger scenes. Can't you see you're making her worse?"

Evan hesitated. He'd heard me plead with him, but his hand remained in his pocket. The bottle stayed there too.

"Nora, I'm doing this for you. The sooner you move past it, the sooner you can stop suffering."

He locked the door again. On his way out, he took Buddy from me and spoke quietly to Helen Marsh.

"Burn the dog. Don't let Nora see it again."

The door clicked shut behind them. I had no strength left to fight. There were sleeping pills left in my pocket. I swallowed them dry, just so the night would end.