Chapter 36

No, my husband is a gentle soul, nothing like that shameless monster! My hands trembled as my mind sank into a quagmire of dark suspicions, pulling me deeper into despair. No, it can't be him. I have to trust my husband. I desperately tried to convince myself not to dwell on it, but the flood of doubts drowned my reason. I crouched beside the bed, sobbing uncontrollably. What if... what if... Terror wracked my body, leaving me paralyzed with fear. That evening, Mary brought me a glass of milk as usual. I stared blankly at the pure white liquid, then at her kindly smiling face. "Mary," I said, my voice unnaturally hoarse, "your milk must be magical. Every night after drinking it, I fall asleep the moment my head hits the pillow—like a pig." Like a poor, stupid pig, completely at your mercy. I scrutinized her expression, searching for the slightest flicker of guilt. Did she feel no shame at all, conspiring with my husband to toy with me night after night like some circus act? Was it real