He was arrested at 9:14 am on May 21, 2003. It was a sunny, blue sky morning. The birds were fluttering and twittering in the trees. The river flowed lazily by, meandering through the forest, dappled with sunlight, sparkling, clear. We were in hiding. Had been since February 26 when we'd fled the city we lived in 1,000 miles away, heading west, heading to the US, he'd said. “I've got money there,” he insisted. “I'll just leave this mess to my lawyers to fix. No sense hanging around waiting for them to get it cleared up. I'll let you go once I'm out of the country,” he promised. Like all his promises, like everything he'd ever said and done, it was all a lie. On that morning in May, the li …
After the sociopath is gone: No Contact begins in my headRead More