When his defense lawyer called to pass along a formal apology, I simply ended the call.

I chose instead to erase him from our daily routine completely.

Lily slowly put her weight back on over the winter.

She outgrew the clothes I had unpacked from the pink suitcase.

By spring, she had stopped asking when her father was coming back.

She stopped repeating what other adults had told her and started speaking in her own clear voice.

I stood in her doorway on a Tuesday night.

She was asleep, holding the worn stuffed rabbit against her chest.

I stepped back into the hallway and pulled her bedroom door nearly shut.

“We’re safe now, sweet girl.”