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 couldn’t.

I could promise to stand beside you and help the truth be heard.”

It was not the cinematic answer I might once have wanted.

I loved him more for it.

“I thought the secret was that you were powerful,” I said.

He shook his head.

“The secret is that I was never powerful enough to guarantee a fair outcome.

That is why the rules matter and why people have to insist on them.”