Chapter 2

Alex gave me his final diagnosis.

"Severe post-traumatic stress disorder, and a rare variant of Stockholm syndrome," he said.

"Long-term, repeated violence from her abusers programmed unbreakable obedience mindset into her. Her sense of self has collapsed entirely. She lives only to follow orders," he explained.

James listened to the police report, finally learning just a fraction of what I'd endured during those three years.

He dropped to his knees outside the ICU, banging his head against the cold wall repeatedly, consumed by guilt.

Rachel was crying, and tried to comfort him and to justify her treatment of me.

But James couldn't spare her the least attention.

He just kept repeating, "It's all my fault..."

A flash of malice crossed Rachel's eyes.

While James was busy talking with the police, she sneaked into my ward.

I'd just been transferred to a regular ward and was quietly sitting by the window.

She came right up to me, her face no longer wearing the feigned tenderness. Now her look was bitter and full of hatred.

She snapped, "Do you have any sense of shame? Now James stays by your side every day. You must feel rather smug, don't you?"

I looked at her without reply.

Exasperated by my silence, she raised her voice, shouting orders at me, "Stay away from James. Get out, right now!

"The farther you go, the better! Don't ever let me see you again.

"Get lost."

That phrase was like a switch flipped in my brain.

I stood up and pulled the IV needles off my hands.

Barefoot, with nothing but a thin hospital gown on, I bolted out of the hospital.

Outside, the rain was pouring heavily.

I had nowhere to go. My mind was empty except for one order, "get lost."

I walked barefoot along the busy road. Rain and muddy water instantly drenched my clothes.

My feet were bleeding from the sharp gravel underfoot, but I felt nothing.

I had to leave, as far away as possible.

The entire city became turned upside down in search of me.

James was frantic, using every social connection to try to search for me and checked out all the surveillance cameras around the city.

Alex finally traced me down and saw me sitting on the bridge spanning the river.

I perched on the outer bridge railing, the river raging and swirling beneath my bare feet.

I thought, "If I jump now, I can finally fulfill the command to 'leave'."

"Stop! Don't move!" a police officer suddenly yelled from behind me.

I ignored the voice completely.

But Alex pushed past everyone and came up behind me, his voice gentle but nonetheless authoritative.

"New instructions," he said.

"Come back." he added.

I froze.

My body instinctively clamored for me to obey this new, gentle command.

Slowly, inch by inch, I climbed back over the railing.

That was exactly what James saw when he came charging over like a frenzied bull.

I followed behind Alex like a well-behaved child, submissively letting him wrap a blanket around me.

James' eyes instantly reddened and his face was contorted by jealousy.

*****

Alex brought me back to his private clinic.

The place was quiet, just white walls and nothing else.

James came rushing in soon after, trying to take me out by force.

"She's my wife. She has to come home with me," James demanded.

I hid behind Alex, my whole body trembling.

"Bad... master..." I whimpered, pointing at James, my words coming out in mumbles.

He was the one who ordered me to hurt myself.

Alex stepped in front of me and warned in an icy voice, "Mr. Carter, haven't you listened to me? To her, you're just the next person who might beat her with an electric baton. Your very existence is her stress trigger."

"Nonsense." James snapped, "We're married! Emily, look at me—it's me, James."

He reached out, trying to pull me toward him.

I screamed and dodged, then bit hard into his arm.

The taste of blood filled my mouth.

James winced in pain, but still refused to let go.