She had nightmares constantly. Always, there was the silhouette of an unidentified woman and the distant James with the cold eyes. James, too, often awoke shivering in the night, his body coated with sweat. Much later, he would admit that he had his own bad dreams, nightmares in which he’d been caught. At home, James demanded continual attention. When she signed up for a class at a local professional school, hoping to get certified to work as a medical aide, James tore up her books and destroyed her homework, even taking the light bulbs from lamps so she couldn’t see to study at night, just as her father had done to her as a child when he turned off the electricity. Instead, James ordered her to sit next to him while he watched military shows on cable television. If she moved, if she ignored him, he’d become enraged, yelling, “I owe you, bitch.” Linda grew to believe James Bergstrom kept a tally of her supposed sins and used them as justification for his own monstrous deeds. Despite everything, Linda hadn’t given up.
