My husband shoved me, shattering the bathroom mirror. His mother sneered, “Clean up this disgusting mess.” But as I fell, my husband roared, “What’s in your pocket?!” The red LED of my federal distress fob pulsed. Denied the third click, I threw myself onto the broken glass, and…

Beatrice was sitting on the bottom step, her designer dress ruined, weeping hysterically while a female agent read her her Miranda rights.

Vance was dragged down the stairs a moment later, bleeding from a split lip where he had hit the wall.

“This is an illegal search!” Arthur bellowed, his face purple with rage. “I have the best lawyers in the state!continue reading …