Chapter 8 - Nothing to Apologize For
I moved my chair close enough for Ruby to see me without turning her head.
“You weren’t bad.”
She looked at the blanket.
“You asked permission,” I said.
“And even if you hadn’t, nobody gets to hurt you.”
“But she said—”
“I know what she said. She was wrong.”
Ruby worried the rabbit’s ear between two fingers.
“Would she be nicer if I said sorry?”
There it was, the lesson my parents had taught me before I was old enough to spell it.
Make yourself smaller.
Offer the apology.
Buy your way back into safety.
I could hear it entering my daughter’s life.
I would spend whatever remained of mine stopping it there.
“You do not owe her an apology,” I said.
“Not for the cake. Not for needing help. Not for telling the truth.”
A child therapist visited the next day.
She did not ask Ruby to perform bravery.
She brought paper, crayons, and a little wooden dollhouse.
Sometimes Ruby talked.
Sometimes she colored while the woman sat quietly nearby.
Afterward, the therapist told me healing would not be a straight line.
I nodded as though I understood.
That night Ruby woke screaming because a cart had struck the doorframe.
I learned what the woman meant.
Two days later, the eye specialist returned.
The swelling had changed enough for another careful examination.
I kept hoping for a sentence beginning with actually.
Actually, the first prognosis was too grim.
Actually, children surprise us.
He did not say either.
The vision in Ruby’s left eye would not return.
They would continue caring for the injury, protecting her comfort, and supporting the sight she had.
Then I went into the bathroom and cried into a folded towel.
When I came back, Ruby was awake.
“Is my eye staying broken?”
I sat down.
“It won’t see again on that side.”
She was quiet for so long that I thought she might fall asleep.
“Will you be on my other side?”
“Whenever you need me.”
The next morning, Vega called about Vanessa’s first court appearance.
There were restrictions on contact and a hearing ahead.
An advocate would explain what applied to us and help with safety planning.
Then Vega said my parents had hired an attorney for themselves.
“Why themselves?” I asked.
“Because we’re investigating their actions, too.”
May you like
Before I could answer, a new message appeared from an unknown number.
You wanted everyone arrested. Now let’s see what kind of mother you are.
