We rehearsed emergency calls under pressure and built safety plans for securing documents before leaving a violent home.

Over two years, it grew beyond anything I’d imagined. A local foundation funded scholarships for low-income women. The city let us run free weekend workshops in public parks.

Volunteer lawyers took divorce cases one day a week. Psychologists supported the women who weren’t ready to leave yet.

Two years later, on a cold winter night, Marvin called.

I stared at the ringing screen a long time before answering.

“Barbara,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to bother you. I just needed to say something.”