They all believed, each in their own way, that love and protection could be separated — that you could love someone and still stand by while they were harmed, that the feeling in your heart counted for something independent of what your hands did or refused to do.

Christopher believed he loved me while helping to drug me.

Diane believed she loved her family while letting me be hurt to protect it.

But love that does not protect is not love.

It is only a feeling the guilty use to comfort themselves.

Real love is not a warmth you carry privately while the person you love is harmed in front of you.

Real love is the thing that unlocks the door, that raises the alarm, that stands between the beloved and the harm no matter the cost.