She wouldn’t say angry.

She wouldn’t say frightening.

She used the word people use when they’re still trying to convince themselves a bad thing is temporary.

“Has he hurt you?” I asked quietly.

“Josie, not now.”

She avoided my eyes, and the avoidance answered more than a sentence could.

I looked at my overnight bag, which I’d left beside the stairs.

Inside it was the carefully pressed uniform I needed for an official event the following morning.