This Time, I Walked Away
When my husband Joshua dragged his student Linda Moore into our apartment, I didn't even blink—I gave up the bed.
Last time, it'd been pouring when he showed up with her in the middle of the night. Told me to crash on the floor with my daughter Mia and gave Linda the bed like it was nothing.
I lost it. Fought with him, snapped at her. She bolted, slipped into a ditch, and supposedly drowned.
Joshua said nothing. Then, one night, with the storm going wild outside, he pried open a manhole and dumped me and Mia in like trash.
"Linda's my mentor's daughter. She's dead—how am I supposed to face him? You two can apologize yourselves."
We didn't even get to scream before that freezing, disgusting water swallowed us whole.
Turns out, Linda faked the whole thing. Just a twisted joke to punish me.
Joshua moved her in right after, like nothing happened.
Now, thunder cracked again as the door opened—and there he was, Linda right behind him.