But instead of tears, when I press my face against the pillow, a horrible, primal scream comes out of me. It's unlike anything I thought myself capable of. Rage, unlike anything I've ever known.

He sits next to me, careful to avoid my hair that's splayed out around my head like blood. A bullet to the forehead, boom, blond waves everywhere.

I wonder what it’s like for her, looking so much like a dead girl.

None of the wives mention the security guards by the door, who will probably tackle us to the ground if we try to leave without our husbands.

Bet you never eat, he says. Bet you drink up the oxygen like it's butter. Bet you can go for days on nothing but thoughts.

And if I have to die trying, I will get out of here.

Home?' I say. It's a word that can mean anywhere and nowhere.