My husband pushed me down the stairs, and as I lay shattered at the bottom, my mother-in-law called my father and said, “Come get your worthless daughter and take her back.” Dad gave her only one warning: “If she has so much as a scratch, your family will answer for it.” They laughed at him because they had absolutely no idea who my father truly was.

I did watch.

I watched her climb again, sure-footed and delighted.

The staircase was simply a staircase.

She was a child playing.

My mind did not have to turn every set of steps into that terrible night.

Afterward, she asked why Grandpa lived alone.

“Because he likes his quiet house,” I said.

“Doesn’t he get lonely?”