At 5 a.m., I got a call from my son-in-law: “Come pick up your daughter at the bus stop. We don’t want her anymore.” When I arrived, my daughter was barely breathing, covered in bruises and broken bones. She sobbed, “My husband and his mother…1

Margaret jumped out of the truck. The rain soaked her instantly.

“Ma’am! Stay back!” an officer shouted.

She ignored him. She ducked under the yellow tape.

And then she saw her.

Emily was curled in a fetal position on the muddy concrete. She looked like a discarded doll. Her beautiful blonde hair was matted with blood and mud. Her face… Margaret brought a hand to her mouth to stifle a scream that threatened to tear her throat apart. Emily’s face was swollen, purple and black, her left eye completely shut. Her leg was bent at a sickening angle beneath her.

She was wearing nothing but a thin silk nightgown, soaked through and clinging to her shivering, broken frame.

“Emily!” Margaret threw herself into the mud, crawling the last few feet.

Emily’s good eye fluttered open. She looked at Margaret, but there was no recognition at first, only primal fear. She flinched, raising a shattered arm to protect her face.