Have you seen her?” Sarai’s aunt asked, glaring at me. “She’s skin and bones, and she has dark circles”—she gestured to her face—“under her eyes.”

“Why do you think I called you?” I asked, leaning against the kitchen counter. “She’s a mess.”

“Is she still going to school?” her uncle asked, calmer than her aunt but still clearly worried.

“She’s still going,” I confirmed. “I don’t know how well she’s doing, though. She used to do a lot more homework than she’s doing now.”

My stomach sank as I realized how true that statement was. I hadn’t seen Sarai do any homework in a long time. As far as I knew, she was still going to class, but when she was home, she almost always went straight to bed.

“We should take her home,” her aunt said. “She should heal with her family.”

“I am her family,” I ground out.

I’d done everything I could to help my wife, but nothing seemed to be helping. Calling Sarai’s aunt and uncle had been my last resort, and I was pretty sure it had been a mistake.

Sarai’s aunt scoffed. “You barely know her,” she said condescendingly.

“I’m her husband,” I argued.

“A mistake,” she replied. “One that is easily fixed.”

It took every piece of self-control my parents had instilled in me not to throw them out of my house then and there.

“We’re worried,” Isaac said, shooting his wife a look. “She doesn’t look good. Sleeping all day isn’t normal for her.”

“I know,” I replied, scratching at the hair on my face. I’d let it grow since my last day in the Army, and I already couldn’t understand how Bram let his get so long. It itched like crazy.

“Adinah and I are just worried because we can’t stay here to watch over her,” Isaac said kindly. “I know you’re trying your best.”

I nodded.

Shortly after, they left for their hotel, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I knew that her aunt and uncle were worried, but I hated that they believed that they knew what was best for Sarai. They acted as if there were a problem between us, like she would get better if they separated us, but I knew that wasn’t true. Sarai treated everyone with the same detachment.

I didn’t know what to do.

My stomach twisted with anxiety as I opened our bedroom door. Sarai was asleep. I didn’t turn on the light as I walked into the dark room, and I ended up tripping over her laptop bag as I moved across the room.