The Door I Opened Wide
Manicured gardens.
Central heating in every room.
A gourmet kitchen that was always fully stocked.
Everything about it spoke of comfort and safety and abundance.
And for years, I had let all of that expensive comfort convince me of something that was not true.
I had looked at the gates and the gardens and the warm well-appointed rooms and I had told myself that my son was safe there, that a house like that, a family like that, could keep a child safe.
I had wanted to believe it, because it was convenient to believe, because it let me work my punishing shifts without guilt.