Her ex-husband was the perfect husband in everyone's eyes, but only she knew how those "just right" concerns took away her bones inch by inch: she doubted her memory, denied her feelings, called the police three times and withdrew three times, and finally felt that she was "broken" and willingly returned to the cage called "love".
The psychiatrist said: "This is not therapy, this is war."
From director to "patient", from prey to hunter. She decided to go back to the tiger's den - record his every word, remember every tampered detail.
When love becomes a cage, doubt is the key, and refusing to be defined is the final freedom.
Intention: I am just the person who saw me in the dark