At the Halloween party, I walked in with one eye bruised black. My husband grinned and raised his glass. “I’m the one who taught her a lesson—now she doesn’t need a costume.” The room erupted in laughter, until my father stepped out from behind the masked guests, placed a sealed police file on the table, and whispered, “Laugh while you still can.” Then the ballroom doors locked.
By the time I entered the Marlowe ballroom, my left eye had swollen into a dark violet ring. Two hundred masked guests turned toward me, and my husband lifted his champagne as if my face were the evening’s entertainment. “I’m the one who taught her a lesson,” Grant announced. “Now she doesn’t need a costume.”…