Alive.
Emily carried two plates to her new dining table.
She was laughing.
After dinner, I stood to help with the dishes.
Emily gently nudged me away from the sink.
Then she turned on the hot water.
“No one orders anyone around in this kitchen anymore.”
I looked toward the doorway where I had once stood frozen, watching my daughter being treated like a servant in her own home.
Now the house was warm.
Emily was safe.
And the two people who had believed she was too frightened, isolated, and powerless to expose them were still dealing with the consequences of every lie they thought they would get away with.
