At 3 a.m., my husband dragged me out of bed and beat me until my lip bled, shouting: “Get up, useless woman!” His mother laughed. I reached the police station and collapsed. My revenge cost them both everything.

At 3:07 a.m., my husband yanked the blanket off me and pulled me onto the hardwood floor. Before I could cry out, his fist split my lip, while his mother stood in the doorway laughing.

“Get up, useless woman!” Derek shouted.

My cheek hit the bedframe. Pain burst white behind my eyes, but I did not plead. Begging had amused him before. Instead, I tasted blood, stared at the blue light blinking on the smoke detector, and remembered the tiny lens hidden inside it was recording everything.