I'm not really interested in adding to any pile on, but my blood has run cold reading this.
My ex-h was a violent and brutal abuser. Thankfully, I haven't clapped eyes on him for 19 years, but I've never forgotten the fear, and this thread has brought up some pretty disturbing feelings.
I could write a book, Op, but I'll just relay one incident in the hope that it might help you understand some of the responses.
One night (very late, as in 3am), after a particularly violent attack, I fled my house wearing my bloodied nightie and an anorak. I don't know where I was going, I just needed to get away in that moment. I maybe would have tried to get to a police station, or flag down a passer by, I don't know.
I was teetotal, but probably looked like a disorientated mess.
As "luck" would have it, I saw a private taxi approach. I didn't have any money, but I was scared, and was going to ask the driver to take me to safety.
When I flagged it down and he stopped, I opened the passenger door..... and my ex-husband was sitting there. He'd called a taxi to come and look for me and take me home.
I will never forget that terrifying journey for the rest of my life. I thought I was near escaping - but I knew, for my own safety that night, I had to act pleased and grateful that he'd come for me.
The taxi driver and ex-h talked about me all the way home, that I was "a bit mental", and wasn't ex-h such a decent guy for coming looking for me so late at night, and "rescuing me".
My fear is that this woman was the same. Maybe she had a whiff of escape. Freedom feels unbelievably intoxicating when you haven't experienced it for years.