I wanted to get up and leave.
Instead, I stayed seated and listened to them until the end.
I needed to hear clearly what kind of world they were defending.
When I finished my cold coffee, I said something I had been silently mulling over since the hospital:
“If protecting your son’s name requires my daughter to doubt herself, I choose to lose them all.”
Mark’s mother stopped crying abruptly.
His father closed his mouth as if I had uttered a curse word.
No one called me back to talk calmly.
The weeks went by, and the house became emotionally sealed inside me.
Not legally yet.
But I couldn’t even think about touching that key again.
