911, praying my babies would survive. I didn’t know it then, but that single call would detonate a hidden bomb, exposing everything: their bottomless greed, their shocking cruelty, and the truth that would irrevocably change my life forever.

My name is Marian, and I’m twenty-eight years old. When I look back at the first months of my married life in Charlotte, North Carolina, everything still feels warm and quiet, like a snapshot from a happier, simpler time. The sunny streets, the distant, rhythmic sound of car engines from