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$Bedridden with three broken ribs from his last beating, I lay immobilized as my husband grabbed our terrified daughter by the hair and dragged her toward the basement stairs. “You’re both going to learn some respect in the dark, starting with this little bitch,” he roared, slamming his heavy fist into my fractured chest to keep me down. I swallowed the copper taste of blood, silencing my whimpers with absolute, terrifying calm. As he confidently stepped onto the top stair, I pulled the hidden release wire under my mattress, dropping the first five wooden steps into the ten-foot concrete pit I had dug and lined with rusty rebar while he was away on his business trip.$

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