Hannah joined as operations manager.

A year after the trial, a young woman named Clara walked into my office in a thick sweater despite the summer heat, her husband waiting outside and checking his watch every few seconds.

When I asked if she felt safe speaking freely, her eyes filled. I recognized the exact expression I used to wear.

I quietly handed her a secure phone, connected her with a trusted shelter network, and helped her copy her identity documents. I didn’t tell her to leave that second, and I didn’t ask why she had stayed so long.

I only said the words I had needed to hear when I was trapped in that basement.

“I believe you,” I told her. “You are not crazy, and you don’t have to show anyone a bruise to deserve help.”