The days after the discovery blurred into a suffocating routine.

I smiled for the children. I let Alexander hold me at night. I even let him fuck me — slow and careful because of the pregnancy — while pretending the horror in my heart wasn’t growing bigger every hour. But inside, I was screaming.

The rose-gold collar, once a symbol of love and surrender, now felt like a shackle. Every time it brushed my skin, I remembered my mother’s terrified voice in that video.

Alexander knew I was pulling away. He always knew.

On the sixth day, he canceled all his calls and found me in the nursery, folding tiny...