“No, Claire. I don’t think she was. I think she was counting on you.”

Lily had been six years old.

She couldn’t explain what the adults around her were doing. She’d been told that speaking would destroy her family. She’d been taught that good sisters stayed quiet and made sacrifices.

She couldn’t run away. She couldn’t ask a stranger for help.

So she did the only thing she could.

She got into the car with the one adult she believed might notice.

At the pool, she turned just enough for me to see the edge of the bandage. She didn’t pull away when I moved the swimsuit strap.

She didn’t have the words to ask to be rescued.

So instead, she let herself be found.

THE END.