I was too weak to stand when my husband zipped his suitcase and said, "You'll be fine for 74 days." Then he left for Europe with his family. Hours later, I discovered...
Abandoned in a Cage
I'd been sick for nearly three months when my husband, Tom, told me he was going to Europe with his parents and his little sister.
"You'll be okay," he said, zipping up his suitcase.
"It's just seventy - four days."
I was still getting over a bad autoimmune flare - up.
I was so tired, unsteady on my feet, and I had to take medicine every day.
My doctor had made it super clear that I couldn't miss a single dose.
Tom knew this very well.
He'd been sitting right next to me at the appointment.
"You can't leave me alone for that long," I said.
"I can barely get up the stairs."
He let out an annoyed sigh and rolled his eyes.
"My family planned this trip years ago. I'm not canceling because you're overreacting."
On the morning they were leaving, Tom brought me a cup of tea and put my pill organizer on the bedside table.
He kissed my forehead and said he'd call when he got to the airport.
Two hours later, I reached for the organizer.
Every single compartment was empty.
I searched all the places I could reach - the drawers, cupboards, bags, and cabinets close by.
My prescription bottles were gone, too.
When I tried to call Tom, my phone said there was no service.
The Wi - Fi was also cut off.
A moment later, the lights went out.
I turned on the faucet.
No water came out.
Fear squeezed my chest.
I forced myself to the front door, but the deadbolt wouldn't turn.
It was locked from the outside.
The back door was the same, and some of the windows were screwed shut.
That's when I realized the truth.
Tom hadn't just left me behind.
He'd deliberately turned our house into a cage.
I dragged myself into the kitchen and rummaged around until I found an old emergency phone in a drawer.
The battery was only at six percent.
I dialed 911, but the call dropped before I could tell the dispatcher my address.
I called again.
This time, the operator stayed on the line long enough to hear my name and the street I lived on.
Just minutes later, someone started pounding on the front door.
"Police! Is anyone inside?"
I screamed as loud as I could until my throat was raw.
Finally, firefighters broke in through the back door.
They found me passed out next to the kitchen table.
A Horrifying Revelation
At the hospital, the doctors said I'd been just hours from a potentially fatal medical emergency.
But the most terrifying thing came the next morning.
Detective Laura Bennett stood by my bed and laid some photos on the blanket.
Security footage showed Tom coming back to the house after his family left for the airport.
He was holding my medicine.
Then he gave it to another woman.
The woman in the security footage was Lisa Harris, one of Tom's coworkers.
As soon as I saw her face, I knew who she was.
She'd come to our Thanksgiving party, brought flowers when I first got sick, and even smiled at me once, saying how lucky I was to have such a caring husband.
Detective Bennett explained that a neighbor's surveillance camera caught Lisa waiting in her car while Tom cut off the utilities and locked all the doors.
Once he was done, he walked over, gave her a pharmacy bag, and kissed her.
That bag had my medication.
"Why would she want it?"
I asked.
"She didn't," the detective replied.
"They threw it away at a gas station."
Investigators thought Tom and Lisa expected my condition to get worse while he was overseas.
If I died without my medicine, it would seem like just a sad result of my illness.
Not long before the trip, Tom had upped my life - insurance coverage a lot and made himself the sole beneficiary.
My stomach turned.
Police officers arrested Tom at the airport before his flight took off.
His parents and sister were questioned too, but investigators found no sign they were involved.
Tom had told them I'd stay with my sister while they were away.
Lisa was arrested at her apartment.
During the search, officers found copies of my medical records, insurance papers, and messages between them about what they called "the cleanest solution."
One message from Tom said, "Without the pills, she won't last long enough to cause trouble."
Reading those words made it hard to breathe.
My lawyer, Mark Davis, quickly filed for divorce and an emergency protective order.
He also froze our joint bank accounts after finding out Tom had already moved almost all our savings to a new account he shared with Lisa.
