Not one of them asked whether it was true.

That was the thing that undid me, more than the cruelty of it.

Not one person in that entire sprawling family wrote back to ask the simple question — is it true, did that happen to you, are the children all right. They did not need to ask, because at some level they already knew, and the knowing was precisely why they wanted it kept quiet.

A family that did not know would have been alarmed.

A family that knew was only embarrassed.

Their reflex was not disbelief.