I stood in the doorway unable to speak.

“It’s temporary,” he said.

“No pressure to decide anything today.”

I put my bag on the chair.

I had nearly forgotten what it felt like to be somewhere without bracing for the next insult.

PART 5: Three Calls, Three Different Kinds of Help

My second call the night of the assault had gone to Nina Alvarez, who’d been thirteen when her mother suffered a stroke.

For nearly a year I picked Nina up from school, fed her dinner, and sat beside her at the hospital so she could study without being alone.