It took Diane’s long, excuse-filled apologies, and then her final excuse-free one, to teach me the truth.

Accountability is not something the victim grants.

It is something the wrongdoer does, alone, and it is complete the moment they stop reaching for the reasons it wasn’t really their fault.

For months, Diane’s every apology had a but buried in it — but Raymond threatened me, but I didn’t fully know, but I was afraid. And every but was a small hand still reaching for the exit, still trying to keep one foot outside the full weight of what she had done.

Real accountability arrived only when the buts ran out — when she could say yes, I let you be harmed to protect my comfort, and stop there, and add nothing, and simply hold it.