I smoothed the front of the cardigan down with both thumbs, holding my hands flat against the wool until my breathing settled into a quiet, steady rhythm.

My right cheek was still tender where the skin had swollen, but the burning pain from yesterday had faded into a dull ache.

I looked into the small oval mirror hanging above the dresser.

My gray hair was combed back neatly, my cardigan buttons were lined up, and my hands were still.

I didn’t feel afraid of the confrontation waiting downstairs.

All the lingering fear had burned away while I sat alone on the edge of the bed in the dark last night.