Chapter 17
Derek appealed.
Of course he did.
Men like him believe consequences are clerical errors.
His new lawyer argued ineffective counsel.
Emotional provocation.
Improper admission of Natalie’s testimony.
The appeal failed.
Patricia’s failed too.
Suzanne did not appeal.
She entered a financial abuse counseling program in prison and sent a second letter a year later.
This one Olivia said I might want to read.
I waited three days.
Then I opened it at my dining table.
Skylar,
I am not asking forgiveness.
I helped my brother hurt you because I liked what I got from pretending his wives owed us.
That sentence stopped me.
No excuse.
No softening.
I kept reading.
I thought if women married into our family, they became resources. I learned that from my mother. I chose to continue it.
I am sorry for treating your life like an account we could withdraw from.
Suzanne.
I folded the letter.
I did not forgive her that day.
But I respected the first honest thing she had ever given me.
Natalie said that counted.
The fund grew.
Elise started helping women repair credit.
Carmen built a workshop on recognizing coercive insurance policies.
I trained volunteers to pack emergency bags quickly.
Passport.
Medication.
Cash.
Chargers.
Proof.
One night, a woman arrived at the safe apartment with a toddler and one plastic bag.
She kept apologizing.
For needing help.
For crying.
For taking up space.
I heard myself say, “You are allowed to be here.”
Then I realized I was speaking to my past self too.
After she slept, I called Natalie.
“I think I’m healing,” I said.
She laughed softly.
“Careful. That stuff sneaks up.”
May you like
“Good.”
“Yes,” she said. “Good.”
