The Billionaire's Regret: My Tortured Ex-Wife

ugh the wire mesh as the cemetery disappeared into the gray distance. She saw Isaiah on hi

hetic. It

spered to the glass. "I ho

rt of the deal. Five years for First Degree Manslaughter. In exchange, the state wouldn't pursue lif

at the back of Isaiah's head in the fron

me the

d of gray concrete and fluorescent l

ed. She was a large wom

ezing water blasted her, stinging her skin, washing a

Lift your tongue

name. They gave her orange scrubs t

2

nut locks, leaving jagged ends that prickled her neck. Karen watched h

shut. Clang. The sou

YEARS

ke up wi

her stomach. It

a bird beating its wings against her ribs.

sn't

e of yellow that was now stained with damp. The air smelled of m

e had been out

row mattress. Her left hand throbbed. A phant

ack leather glove. She slept with it on. Sh

om

was smal

the room, on a mattress on the floo

o

ey were dark, intelligent, and terrifyingly familiar

?" Hoke asked. He sat up, his mes

uscle memory she was relearning.

esser. He was small for his age, malnourished from a diet of cheap pasta and g

and pulled out a

said, handi

ive-year-old son shouldn't know which pills his mother neede

e." She swallow

ll hand over her black-gloved one. He didn't ask about the glove. He ne

y," Karen said softly.

. "For the

the draw

e said fiercely. "If they don

ad. "We need the money, Hoke.

d, just a split second, the childish softness vanished, replac

big, I'm going to make them pay.

oulders. "Hoke, no.

, an innocent, gap-toothed grin. "I just mean

errified. Not of the world, but of the seed of hatred she could see