Darkness surrounded the ranch buildings. From within the house a lantern’s feeble light shone through an open door and window. In this late hour the light spread a dusty halo into the cold night air. Minutes earlier the door had been flung open and sounds came from the house–terrible sounds. Now it was quiet.

Bethany Allison Sanford lay sprawled on the rough wood floor gazing blankly at her husband Eli. Blood trickled from her mouth–and though her senses were swimming, Bethany resolved that he would never beat her again. The husband sat at the kitchen table and drunkenly shoveled dinner into his face. When he’d had enough, Eli elbowed the dishes onto the floor and stood laughing as he kicked the broken pieces at his wife. Reeling into the bedroom, he lay down and vomited before passing out.

Bethany Sanford, long-suffering and eager for revenge, dragged herself to the kitchen sink and splashed dirty water on her face. She took the lantern from the table and peered around the corner at her husband. He lay snoring on their bed. Bethany set the lantern by the doorway and walked quietly round the bedroom. The flame cast the huge bulk of Eli’s shadow on the far wall.

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