The day I became a director should have been one of the happiest days of my life, but my husband ruined it with a mocking smile.

“Okay,” I said.

The next morning, Derek drove off to pick up Gloria and Melanie, confident that when he returned, I would be exactly where he left me: compliant, practical, useful.

But when his truck pulled into the driveway three hours later, he stepped out laughing at something his mother had said—until he saw the front porch.

The locks had been changed.

His key didn’t work.