“Ma’am, we’re going to get you out of here.”
I wanted to answer.
I wanted to tell him everything.
But the second they started carefully removing the dirt around me, my body finally gave up pretending it was fine.
My vision blurred.
My hands shook.
And the last thing I remember before the ambulance arrived was hearing my husband shouting:
“She is exaggerating! She does this when she wants attention!”
I opened my eyes inside the ambulance.
The paramedic beside me looked furious.
Not at me.
At him.
“Ma’am, don’t worry. We heard everything.”
I stared at her.
“Everything?”
She nodded.
“The recordings.”
My eyes filled with tears.
Not because I was relieved.
Not yet.
Because I suddenly realized something.
The recordings were enough to prove what happened outside.
But they weren’t enough to explain why it happened.
And I needed the answer.
Because my husband hadn’t just woken up one morning and decided to bury his pregnant wife in the backyard.
