It seemed like hours had passed before the door finally broke, violently bouncing off of the wall. James wasn't standing in the door frame like I expected, instead two gun toting police officers were there. Odd, I hadn't called them. I hadn't heard an obvious scuffle either.

"Ma'am, your neighbor called, said he heard a lot of screaming. Are you alright? What happened?"

I must've been screaming without even realizing it. How long had it taken for the cops to be called? How long had I been in here?

The officers called the paramedics inside after they had secured the house. Officer Brown explained that they had found my husband sitting in his office, claiming to have heard no screaming.

"He said you car was gone so he assumed you were out shopping. Kim, do you know where your car is?"

I didn't. I assumed he had moved it before he attempted to break down the door. Yet, I lacked the strength to answer the police officer.

I was taken to the hospital and given a full physical evaluation. They asked me endless questions, whether he had been abusive in the past, whether he had beaten me this time. If I had ever been admitted to a mental hospital or to any hospital under suspicious circumstances. I gave short and simple answers, not really feeling any drive to give more complicated answers. The officers told me that James was in custody and being questioned just like I was but he was denying everything. He was claiming to have been unaware that I was even in the house and had even opened up the garage to show the officers my supposedly missing car. I overheard Officer Brown and his younger, more timid partner whose name I had missed discussing me out in the hallway.

"I think she might be crazy. Her husband is cooperating fully and all of her answers are... unsatisfactory. Plus, all of the evidence points to her husband being innocent, essentially."

I started to hyperventilate, they couldn't make me go back there with James. They couldn't make me go back with him. I wouldn't go back with him.

After a few hours, the questioning was over and I lay there in my bed, staring at the ceiling in utter silence. In utter despair. I still didn't know what was wrong with my husband, why he was acting this way. Where had the psychic done? I was really starting to doubt myself, my own sanity. Had my husband ever been crazy? Maybe it had actually been all along.

James visited me in the hospital the next morning after I had had a sleepless night, entertaining myself with counting the tiny little holes in the generic ceiling of the hospital. His eyes were dark, empty. I knew my husband was truly gone now.

"Are you ready to go home, my darling?"