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“Some people thought she was a crazed lunatic who just snapped. They knew my dad as a sweet man and involved father, while Mom never went to parties, PTA meetings, school plays, or games. And when she did, she stood there quietly and never talked to anyone. Then I walked into school, quiet and not talking to anyone, and my classmates jumped all over me. They said crazy was genetic and I would end up like Mom—locked away.”

Laurel let out a long, rumbling sigh like she knew the woes of the world. Smiling, I let her grab on to my finger.

“Those who did believe the truth of what Dad did to her were even worse. I’d see it in their eyes, baby—the judgment. ‘Why didn’t I say something? Why didn’t I get my mother help? I was old enough to understand what he was doing to her was wrong, yet I happily skipped around the neighborhood? What was wrong with me?’

“Some people only thought it, Laurel. Others said it.” I leaned back on the glider, gently rocking her. “I know what you’re thinking. Why is Mommy telling you such a sad story tonight? It’s because for the last nine years, that day has been my first thought when I wake up. There’re questions that I’ve asked myself in each quiet moment.

“Were there signs and I ignored them, refusing to believe my dad wasn’t a good man? Was there something I could’ve done to help her? Was there really no way out for me and Sienna for our mom to believe that final act was the only way to free us? Why didn’t she take us and leave instead of taking away our mother and father on the same day?

“Then there was a new question on my mind. It popped up about nine months ago.” I gazed down at her, meeting those green, staring eyes. “If it was to protect you, would I do anything different?”

Laurel popped off, having had her fill. “Da. Baaa baa.”

I nodded along to her string of babble, mmh-hhhing and cooing in the right places.

“That’s a very good point, my love.” I settled my baby on my knee, patting her back. “I told you all of this because... because—” My eyes filled. “Because today I finally... answered the questions. My mother was caged for fifteen years, and I was in my own type of prison for eight months. We both followed the rules for the sake of our children—never fighting back or stepping out of line, because if I stole those chips or picked a pocket, I would have done that for me, not for you. Me with a record and no parental rights did not help you. And Mom...

“I see now how smart Dad was. How insidious. The abuse was emotional, manipulative, and Sienna and I were set up as the accomplices. If Mom divorced him, he’d fight for split custody and win. Why wouldn’t he when there weren’t any bruises on us? We were cleaned, clothed, fed, happy little daddy’s girls. We would’ve told the judge we wanted to live with him. And if Mom took us and ran, the police would have hunted her down as a kidnapper, returned us to Dad, and tossed her in prison. Either way, we ended up alone with him.

“So she endured him for us, and when she finally acted, that was for us too. That’s not to say what she did was right, but her reasons... weren’t wrong. I can say that now, give my mother that understanding, because today all the things I did, were for you. When this is over, we won’t have to worry about that bald man coming after us. We’ll be safe, and I’ll finally be able to start over with you and Aunty Sienna. How does that sound?”

Laurel burped. I took that as a good sign.

“I’m gonna get you out of this place,” I cooed. Drawing my legs up, I rested her against my thighs, tickling her nose with mine. She giggled and waved her chubby fists. “You’re gonna have your own room with two drawers full of clothes Mommy made just for you. You’ll be the best-dressed baby in the whole borough.”

“Da, da, da.”

“Mama,” I said. “Ma—”

A thud sounded on the other side of the door. “Laurel?”

My heart cannonballed into my throat.

“Is someone in there?”

Picking her up, my mind clouded in panic. I grabbed the chair arm and shoved it in front of the doorway, ripping a scream from Charlie when the knob smacked into it.

“Laurel?! Who’s in there?! What are you doing?!”

Laurel burst into wails. Rushing across the room, I peppered her face with salty kisses—my breaths shallow and ragged as I placed her in the crib.

I have to get out! She can’t see me—

Charlie rammed the door, screeching the glider across the hardwood. “What are you doing to her?!” Laurel’s screams ratcheted to deafening.

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