The slam of the door is music to my ears. I can finally breathe again—though I have to be careful. My ribs feel as if they are cracked, but I’m used to broken ribs. It’s amazing what a person can get used to when they don’t have a choice.

I drag myself slowly across the floor. Crying with agony I reach the bathroom and I stand on shaky legs. Supporting myself on the sink I force myself to look in the mirror. The sight of my own face frightens me.

He usually lays off the face—wouldn’t want the average passerby to know he beats his woman senseless—but this time, he’s blackened my eye. At least, it will be black by the time it finishes bruising. It looks terrible already. Dark hand marks are already visible around my throat. He’s getting sloppy. My lower lip is a little swollen, too, from his first slap, and my scalp stings. He likes to pull my hair. Once he yanked so hard, he pulled a whole clump out and left me with a bald patch. He thought it was funny.

I wonder what made him react so badly this time. Something must have gone wrong for him. Probably to do with why he is not going away tomorrow. He must have come here to take it out on me. I suspect that is why he still keeps me locked away here in this apartment. I’m his punching bag. He hardly ever needs me for sex, and it’s clear he avails himself of many, many women. I smell them on him when he stumbles to my bed drunk and high as a kite.

With tears running down my face, I reach into the medicine cabinet for the high strength pain medication that he has so thoughtfully stocked up for me. After swallowing the tablets, I carefully clean myself up as best I can. There’s only so much I can do though. At least the tears have stopped. Now I just feel cold and empty inside. Like there’s nothing inside my skin. I’m just a shell.

Whatever made me think that Tyson could get me out of this mess? I must have been mad with lust. With all the money and the connections Tony has Tyson will never be able to save me. Nobody will. I saw it in his eyes today. Time is running out for me. I have to protect Christopher. If anything happens to me he’ll become an orphan.

The thought of Christopher pulls me out of the spiral I was falling into. I have to see him. I have to remember there’s still something good in my life. I put on my biggest sunglasses and wrap a scarf around my neck and mouth before leaving the apartment Tony forces me to live in. I hate it. I hate the neighborhood and the nosy people. Which is why he loves it, naturally.

So many eyes on me all at once, watching when he can’t be around. Traitors. They have no idea who he is. None of them do. I’m sure they’ve heard me screaming, but people have a way of ignoring what they don’t want to hear.

I walk to the phone box and call the number Tyson made me memorize. He picks up on the first ring.

“Izzy,” he says urgently.

“I won’t be able to make it tomorrow, or ever again. I’m so sorry. Goodbye, Tyson,” I say woodenly.

“Izzy!” he shouts as I drop the receiver back into the cradle. I lean my forehead against the cold glass of the phone booth, my mind blank, my heart aching, until I hear a bicycle bell. A kid whizzes past. I can’t think of what I want or need anymore. I have to think of Christopher and Mom. I have to find a way to get us out of this country and fast.

Mom’s not far away—I would normally walk, but there’s too much pain. A quick taxi ride takes me to her front door. When I reach her house, with its cheerful wallpaper and the smell of fresh-baked chocolate cookies in the air, I almost cry with longing for a life long gone, when I was young and life was sweet. I put my key away and Mom comes into the hallway carrying Christopher.

“Look who it is! It’s Mummy!” Mom holds Christopher up so I can take him from her, but I wave her off, and sit carefully, slowly. Her face falls.

“He’s been at it again, hasn’t he?”

I nod and take off my glasses.

“Oh, Isabella,” she gasps in horror.

“It’s okay, Mom. It looks worse than it feels. It’ll heal.” I take the baby from her and sit him on the edge of my lap. I don’t trust Christopher’s waving arms and legs to hold him too close against my bruised body.

She shakes her head sadly.

“And how’s my sweet boy? Behaving for Grandma?”

“Dada,” he says.

I bite my lip. That is the only word my son will say. Over and over again. Every time I hear it I feel guilty all over again for the mess we are in. If only I had not gone to that bar that night. If only I had not said yes to Tony.

“He’s an angel, as always,” Mom says as she potters around the kitchen. I hear ice clinking. She’s making me a pack. I shower my boy with kisses all over his pudgy cheeks and the soft, dark hair that covers his head. His clear, blue eyes shine.

“Dada,” he shrieks excitedly, and laughs uproariously when I tickle him. No matter how bad I feel my spirits always perk up when I have a visit with him.

I sent him to live with Mom about a month after he was born. It happened when Tony and I got into our first big argument. At that time Tony had only just begun to show his true colors, and I didn’t yet know the extent of his sadistic streak. What I did know is that I had made a mistake. You can’t live with a man you don’t love. During that argument, I made the error of telling him that it was wrong for me to move in with him.

I had never seen anyone change the way he did. One moment he was standing in front of me having an argument about why I wouldn’t leave Christopher with a babysitter and go out to a party with him.

Then the next moment he had stormed into Christopher’s room, grabbed him up by his tiny leg, and started swinging him around like he was a rag doll. “If you leaving him is the problem then I’ll just have to smash him against the wall. Problem solved.”

He was like a mad man. I could not even imagine it was the same man who had promised to take care of me and my baby until his dying day. Because, he said, one day I would wake up and realize that he was the kindest and most loyal man, and I would fall in love with him.

While Christopher screamed in fear I could only stand there frozen. So completely shocked. I was unable to move, speak, or even think. Until, suddenly, as I looked at my son swinging dangerously in an arc, it came to me in a flash. He was jealous of my son. All I had to do was genuflect. Show total submission. Tell him no one else was more important to me than him.

I fell to my knees and begged Tony to let my baby go. I told him I would do whatever he wanted. He could do anything he wanted with me. He walked up to me and threw Christopher at me. I lunged forward and caught my tiny infant in my arms. I held him tight and tried to rock him. “Next time,” Tony sneered, “I won’t be so reasonable. Stop him screaming and come to bed. You have work to do.”

“When are you going to leave that evil monster?” Mom asks, handing me the ice pack and taking Christopher back so I can hold it over my eye.

“Mom, please. You know what’s happening. You know it’s not that simple.”

“What I know is he’s going to kill you one day.”

“Mom, please, don’t. All right? Just don’t. Not today.” Tears fill my eyes again. I thought I couldn’t cry anymore today. I can’t help but think of Tyson, and how happy I was for just a little while yesterday. At least I’ll have that to remember. That little bit of happiness in his arms, the way it was always meant to be. He’s right about that. We fit together perfectly. We are meant to be together. Life is cruel, but I will sort it out one day. One day after I have made my escape and Tony forgets about me I will contact Tyson again. I will introduce him to his son then. He deserves to know, but doing it now will endanger both him and Christopher.

“If not for yourself,” Mom says, “then for your son. What happens when he has to grow up without you? It’s bad enough you’re afraid to have him live with you now …”

“Please, just … please stop, Mom.”

She opens her mouth to say something else, but I interrupt her. “You don’t think I know how terrible this is?” I know it is not her fault. She is trying to help, but my voice is full of the bitterness in my heart. “I spend entire nights staring up at the ceiling, asking myself how I’m ever going to get out of this.” I look at my baby in her arms. He’s angelic, completely oblivious to the pain all around him. I don’t want him to ever lose that innocence.

I meet her anxious gaze again. “You don’t know how much I miss Christopher every day, Mom. I hate missing out on anything with him, and only being able to visit. I feel like I’ll never get out of this trap. I’ve even considered finding someone who can get us fake passports and just running away with you and Christopher. Somewhere Tony could never find us.”

Even though I am kept on a very strict ration where I even have to show Tony my supermarket receipts every week, I’ve managed to salt away a bit of money. Not much, but maybe enough for one and a half passports. I was going to wait until I had enough for three passports, but now that things have come to a head, I will borrow what I don’t have from Charlotte or one of my other friends.

My mom looks at me sadly, but she doesn’t discourage me. She’s willing to take the risk of us going to prison because we broke the law to get away from him.

* * *

Later, back at my clinical, super modern apartment, I put my phone by my bedside. I know Tony will call though, and I know better than to miss his call. I think he gets a sick pleasure out of saying he is sorry and knowing that I have to pretend to accept his apology. Then, I gingerly lie on my back on the bed. I always try to sleep at times like this. There is no pain while I’m asleep.