Carly Lewis’ report on the murder of Ashley Wadsworth is intense and devastating. But it also demonstrates the standard playbook of abusive men. Lewis is clear: Any history of abuse must be made public and early warning signs must be taken seriously. Wadsworth didn’t need to die.
For seven years, Wadsworth looked at Sepple’s face intently, through computer screens and smartphones, at the airport when they finally met, every day of their short cohabitation and in the last moments of her life. Under his right eye, for some of that time, was a tattoo: “hope” in cursive writing—the holy premise she clung to, staring back at her, as though a sign that perfect brightness would come.
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