The responses are annoying to say the least. Using the alias I had assigned her, I had posted that my husband occasionally raised his fist as if he was about to hit me and then blamed me for making him come so close to losing control. I had written that he called me a cunt in front of our youngest child and once even told me that the world would be a better place if I wasn’t in it.

Several of the women on the board had recommended couples counseling.

People are pathetic.

So after adding Jessica’s voice to a few conversations started by others in the online community, I write another post, this time saying that things have escalated. I tell them that I got a little drunk and provoked him unnecessarily, verbally taunting him and even snatching away his phone when I suspected he was about to text a mistress. This enraged my husband, who then grabbed me by the hair before pushing me up against the wall, wrapping his hands around my neck and choking me.

In the end it doesn’t really matter what the other posters think. What matters is what the police find.

Still, I’d like to make an impact. I’m creating a drama here; is it too much to ask for an appreciative audience?

By the time Jessica wakes I’ve done everything I need to do and even ordered her lunch from a local spot that delivers. She sips unsweetened iced tea and pops amphetamines while we go over her social calendar.

“Next week is the political fund-raiser,” she reminds me. “Travis has great hopes for this particular candidate, this Sam Highkin. He must have what it takes. I’ve never known Travis to bet on a horse that didn’t win.”

“Is Highkin a good guy?” I ask.

Jessica looks at me blankly.

“I mean, do you like him? Is he decent?”

“He’s a politician,” Jessica responds, as if that alone explains the state of his character. And she might have a point. Still . . .

“Do you agree with his politics, then?” I press.

Jessica shakes her head impatiently. “I don’t really follow that sort of thing. I know that if he wins his next race it’ll be helpful to Travis. And,” she adds thoughtfully, “I know that despite his being a virtual unknown I’ve managed to almost sell out the event at a thousand dollars a ticket. It’s the black tie, of course.”

“The black tie?