My stepfather beat me every day as a form of entertainment. One day, he broke my arm, and when we took me to the hospital, my mother said, “It was because she accidentally fell off her bike.” As soon as the doctor saw me, he picked up the phone and called 911.
My name is Emily Carter, and for as long as I can remember, my stepfather treated pain like a game. He never drank, never lost his temper in public, never looked like the kind of man people warn you about. At home, though, he found entertainment in breaking me down piece by piece. He would…