The lie had come so easily. For years I had protected Vincent’s image, even from our own daughter.

Her drawing still hung on the wall. COME HOME SOON, MOMMY. The words meant something different now.

Going home could no longer mean returning to the same house under the same rules.

Surviving the crash would count for nothing if I brought Lucy back into a life where she learned that love demanded silence.

Chapter 10 — The Handle Turned

I tightened my grip on the bedrail and remembered the twisted metal, the broken glass glittering under the emergency lights, opening my eyes beneath the operating-room lamps and promising myself I would make it home to my daughter.

I had survived an impact strong enough to break both my legs and fracture my ribs.