My daughter hadn’t replied for a week, so I went to her house—my son-in-law said she was away on a trip, but a faint sound from inside made me question everything

tears for the cameras.

“She’s been having episodes,” she sobbed. “We were protecting her.”

Emily lifted one trembling finger toward the workbench.

“Phone,” she whispered. “He recorded me.”

Ruiz moved fast.

Under a paint tarp sat Emily’s phone, cracked but still working, plugged into a charger. On it were videos Mark had taken while forcing her to read legal continue reading …