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My mother-in-law pressed a pillow over my face while I lay trapped inside a rigid full-body cast. She whispered that I should have died in my accident and that her son deserved another chance. Margaret believed I could not move enough to resist her. She did not know I had spent forty-eight hours waiting for her to try again.

As the pillow crushed the air from my lungs, I counted silently. One, two, three—Margaret pushed harder while continuing to speak. Beneath the brace around my thumb was a tiny…