I Heard My Husband Order the Doctor to End My Pregnancy—So I Activated the Secret Signal in My Jacket

The first time I understood that my husband wanted to destroy me, I was lying on a steel table with my wrists strapped down and our child, three months along, growing inside me.

That morning, Preston Lyle had driven me to a private clinic in Georgetown. On the way he held my hand and talked about baby names, an ivory-colored nursery, and the Italian crib he wanted shipped before Christmas.