My wife’s greatest terror was that they were right.

And the greatest thing I ever got to do was tell her, truthfully, that they were wrong.

I have thought since about why I was so scared nobody would believe me was the first thing my wife said through her tears — not it hurts, not I was so afraid, but that specific, particular fear of disbelief — and I have come to understand that it names the deepest and most invisible wound that people like the Prescotts inflict.

When a powerful person or family sets out to crush someone weaker, the physical harm, however terrible, is rarely the whole of the strategy.