Monologue Of 'The Second Wife'

Writing The Second Wife was one of the hardest projects I’ve ever undertaken. This story ignited a variety of emotions within me. So much of that work was spent with me locked away from family and friends. It took an army of people to make this happen, and I couldn’t have done it without their encouragement and support. I am constantly humbled by the love my army showers upon me.
To my husband: Having a writer for a wife wasn’t something you signed up for, yet you never once complained. You’ve always said you hated reading books, but not only did you read The Second Wife, you gushed about it. That means the world to me. Thank you for your constant love, your infinite confidence, and unrelenting faith in me.
To my children: For being the wonderful, beautiful young woman and man that you are. I can’t even begin to describe how proud I am of you both.
“You need to wake up.”
The urgency in it made her eyelids flutter, pulling her further away from the dark claws of sleep.
Like a silent movie, foggy images of a dimly lit parking lot invaded her dreams. A woman, tall and lean, walked the deserted space alone. With each clip of her heels against the paved road, the haze cleared a little more. Ally’s heart raced when the woman’s features came into view. Long, curly black hair, dark brown eyes, tanned complexion.
It was her.
Two sets of hands emerged from the shadows, dragging her into the woods. The taller of the two men covered the woman’s mouth, muting her screams as she wrestled to break free, until the other one slammed a brick into the base of her skull, plunging her into darkness.
This must be a dream.
Rays of light pierced the darkness as Ally’s heavy eyelids fought to open. When she shifted, instead of soft sateen, her cheek scraped against a cold, hard surface.
“Alisha? Can you hear me?” This voice wasn’t David’s. It sounded thick, heavy with accent, and oddly familiar. So familiar, she