A second video arrived moments later. Tara was twirling in my wedding dress—the one I'd preserved in a box, waiting for an anniversary Derek would acknowledge. He stood behind her, his hands trailing down her sides as he whispered something in her ear.
"Remember when you said this dress was bad luck?" Tara's voice rang out. "Turns out it just needed the right bride."
I closed my phone and took a deep breath. Just five more days. Five days until my divorce was finalized and my visa to leave the country was processed. Five days until freedom.
Three days later, they discharged me. True to their word, Derek and Tara came to pick me up.
In the car, Tara's high-pitched voice grated against my nerves as she leaned over the front seat to face me.
"Oh my God, Hazel! You missed so much because of your unfortunate incident," she emphasized the word 'incident' as if I'd merely stubbed my toe rather than been stabbed by her. "Derek took me to the Diamond Falls last weekend. You know, that place he always refused to take you?"
Derek's eyes met mine briefly in the rearview mirror, cold and warning.