He had married the one person who had survived one.

And the survival, he was beginning to grasp, had a specific and terrible shape.

It was not only that her father had hurt her.

It was that he had done it in a way designed to make her unbelievable — that every time she had tried, over ten years, to tell someone what was being done to her, the telling itself had been turned into further proof that she was unwell.

A woman with scars and a story is a witness.

A woman with scars and a thick file of psychiatric evaluations is a patient, and patients are not believed, and that unbelievability had been, Caspian saw, the entire point.