His Love, Her Prison, Their Son

For five years, my husband, Courtland Johnson, had me locked in a rehabilitation center, telling the world I was a murderer who had killed my own stepsister.

On the day of my release, he was waiting. The first thing he did was swerve his car directly at me, trying to run me down before I even left the curb.

My punishment, it turned out, was only just beginning. Back at the mansion I once called home, he locked me in a dog kennel. He forced me to kowtow to my "dead" sister's portrait until my head bled onto the marble floor.