“I gave her a stronger dose tonight,” my husband whispered downstairs. I froze in bed, wide awake for the first time in eighteen years. My heart pounded as I realized something terrifying—I had never woken up at night before. Not once. The pills on my nightstand suddenly looked different. And in that moment, I understood the truth: I wasn’t sleeping. I was being kept unconscious on purpose.
The clock on my nightstand glowed 2:47 a.m. when my eyes snapped open for the first time in nearly eighteen years. I lay frozen, staring at the ceiling, my heart hammering so loudly I was sure it would give me away. The space beside me in our California king bed was empty. That alone was…