Days later, I was placed under protection. Investigations followed, and several family members — including my husband — were taken into custody.
The maid, though slightly injured in the struggle, survived. I held her hands, crying:
“If not for you, I wouldn’t be here today.
I can never repay this.”
She smiled gently, wrinkles deep at the corners of her eyes:
“All I want is for you to live in peace. That’s enough.”
A New Beginning
Months later, I moved to another city, starting from nothing. Life wasn’t easy, but at least I was free, no longer haunted by his terrifying gaze.
Sometimes, when I remember it all, I still shiver.
Yet I’m filled with gratitude: gratitude for the maid who gave me another chance, and gratitude for my own courage to walk out of the darkness.
I now understand one truth: for some women, a wedding night marks the beginning of joy. For others, it is the start of a fight to survive. I was one of the lucky ones — I escaped, and I lived to tell this story.
