Then the doorbell rang. Maxwell transformed. From abuser to smiling host in seconds. His family entered like predators in designer clothes. They made pitifully thin jabs about my appearance and intelligence. I smiled, pretending—and Emma watched. She recorded.
They praised how “well-behaved” I was, how “accommodating,” how I “knew my place.” It felt like I was drowning in words meant to humiliate. I had wanted to go back to nursing school. Maxwell had told me I was too stupid and I’d embarrass the family. I said nothing—but Emma saw that too.
