I almost laughed.
“Daniel, I’m your wife. You don’t get to decide everything for me.”
He lowered his head.
I turned toward Dr. Reeves.
“I want the records reviewed. And I want an independent medical examination.”
Daniel stepped forward.
“Margaret, please—”
I raised my hand.
“No. You don’t get to make these decisions for me anymore.”
For the first time, he stopped arguing.
After Daniel left to retrieve the documents, Dr. Reeves helped arrange my medical evaluation and preserve the laboratory findings.
I called Helen.
The moment she heard my voice, she knew something was wrong.
“Margaret, what’s happened?”
“I need you.”
She arrived shortly afterward.
When I explained everything, she hugged me tightly.
She never said she’d warned me.
Instead, she whispered, “You’re coming home with me.”
I nodded.
For the first time in months, I felt safe enough to cry.
The following morning, Daniel delivered copies of the research files.
Some confirmed what we already knew.
