I held her gaze.
“Has he ever threatened you?”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
She looked away.
“Not exactly.”
I waited.
She rubbed her thumb across the edge of the damp paper towel.
“He says I’d have nothing without him.”
My chest tightened.
“What else?”
“He says nobody would believe me because everyone thinks he’s good to me.”
That one landed hard.
Because he was right about one thing.
I had believed it.
Our family had believed it.
Friends had believed it.
David had built an image so convincing that Rachel probably felt trapped inside it.
I reached for her hand.
“I believe you.”
She started crying.
Not loudly.
That would have been easier.
Instead, tears just slipped down her face while she stood there trying not to make a sound.
“I feel so stupid,” she whispered.
“Don’t.”
“I let this happen.”
“No.”
“I should have stopped it.”
“Rachel.”
She looked at me.
“This started small,” she said. “He wanted to manage the bills because he was better with money. Then he wanted both paychecks in one account. Then he said separate accounts made married people look like they didn’t trust each other.”
She gave a shaky breath.
“Then one day, my card stopped working.”
I squeezed her hand.
“What did he say?”
