I thought it was just a rash on my husband’s back—until the doctor saw it, turned pale, and whispered, “Don’t go home. Call the police. Now.”

PART 1

But a wave of nausea hit me. At the clinic, the doctor leaned closer, then suddenly froze. His lips parted, the color draining from his face. He whispered, “Don’t go home. Call the police. Now.”

The marks were too precise to be a rash. They formed three deep red circles across Ethan Mercer’s back, each ring made up of tiny punctures, as though continue reading …