ORLANDA winced as Nurse Margaret gently unwrapped the gauze from her wrist. The sting from the reopened wound pulsed beneath the old dressing, reminding her again of the sharp, deliberate cruelty Oswald had inflicted. Her wrist bore the faint red line, the knife mark carved carefully into her skin, shaped unmistakably into a heart.

Nurse Margaret gave her a sympathetic look.

"Hold still, dear. I know it hurts." She dabbed an antiseptic solution on a cotton pad and pressed it gently to the wound. Orlanda bit her lip, inhaling sharply at the burning sensation.

"Almost done," the nurse whispered, as if speaking too loudly would make the pain worse. She...