It could not un-strap the baby from her chest or un-ache her arms or un-teach her the terrible lesson that asking for help might make someone angry.

Their ruin was irrelevant to the only project that actually mattered to me, which was inside the four walls of my own home.

I had two children to raise, and to heal, and to make safe, and every ounce of attention I spent hating the people who had hurt them was an ounce stolen from that work.

So I spent almost none.

I let the world deal with Julian Vance and Wendy, and I turned, with everything I had, toward my son and my daughter.