When I hear Shea scream and see the smear of blood on the floor, I know immediately what she’s done. She didn’t listen. Even though I asked her to wait, Shea is so spoiled and impatient. Of course, she’s gone and injured herself. “Have you hurt yourself, Shea?” I ask before I can stop myself. I hear the cold spite in my voice and watch her face crumple like a white cotton handkerchief. My own calm shocks me. “Put them both on,” I order her, and reach for the metal poker next to the fireplace.

If I’m completely honest, I’m not sure when the glass shards went from a vague idea to an actual plan. Had Shea just let me sleep a little, I might have woken up refreshed and reasonable. I might have sat with the shoes and a set of tweezers and retrieved the slivers I built into the lining. But Shea never listens. She’s never willing to follow someone else’s timeline. I tried to give her everything this morning and she still couldn’t follow a simple request.

Yesterday, I considered the broken glass as a last resort, protection in case someone managed to decipher more of Shea’s coded videos. It helped my confidence to remember I can outsmart her. It can get frightening to be this isolated alone in the woods with someone as volatile as Shea. She is desperate and her behavior has escalated. To keep us both safe, I couldn’t be taken by surprise again.

Then I sat at the table with superglue and the sneakers. It took focus to position each crystal just right. Each time I moved the tweezers and pressed down, I thought of a different vicious comment, another follower who wished I would simply disappear just so Shea could fit better into the frame. I thought of the ways she betrayed me. I felt those slights as cuts after all. Maybe now it’s Shea’s turn to bleed a little. “Put on your new sneakers. We need to record another video.”

I keep my voice strong, the way I’ve practiced. I maintain eye contact and don’t look down at the blossoms of blood stamping the wooden beams of the floor. It seemed like a harmless prank, but the sight of blood makes me woozy. Shea stares at me, imploring me. But I won’t let her sway my plans. “ ‘Gouge Away’—it’s a great song, right? It’s got a strong beat and completes the story you’ve told about you and me.”