Chapter 9
Carly’s appeal was denied.
The protective orders remained in place.
The restitution payments began, though I knew money could never restore every lost night, every fearful silence, every moment Andy had spent believing he was not enough.
Still, justice mattered.
It drew a line.
It said what happened was real.
It said abuse did not become acceptable because it happened inside a family.
I started volunteering at a legal aid center for victims of domestic abuse.
I did not tell them what to do.
I listened.
Sometimes that was the most important thing.
When people said, “It wasn’t that bad,” I recognized the words.
When they said, “Maybe it was my fault,” I recognized that too.
May you like
And I told them what I wished someone had told Andy earlier.
Love should not make you afraid to breathe.
