Chapter 2 - TWO SUITCASESI did not pack everything.
That matters.
People imagine leaving an abusive marriage as a perfect evacuation.
Documents.
Clothes.
Jewelry.
Evidence.
Children’s favorite toys.
Reality:
I forgot my laptop charger.
Three pairs of Lily’s socks.
My prescription sunglasses.
I packed seven stuffed animals because Lily insisted none could survive alone.
I took medication.
Passports.
Social Security cards.
Birth certificate.
The folder containing our mortgage statements.
A flash drive.
Then I remembered Richard controlled the main checking account.
My debit card still worked.
Probably.
I had $617 in my personal savings.
Richard called it my “little account.”
I had allowed him to think that was all I possessed.
That was complicated.
Lily asked:
“Is Daddy coming?”
“No.”
“Later?”
“I don’t know.”
Her face crumpled.
I sat beside her.
“None of this is because of you.”
“Because I spilled?”
“No.”
“Because Grandma fell?”
“No.”
“What if Daddy gets mad?”
“He probably will.”
I could have lied.
“He isn’t allowed to hurt you because he’s mad.”
Lily thought.
“What about you?”
My throat tightened.
“Me too.”
Downstairs, a door slammed.
Richard.
I zipped the first suitcase.
My hand found the orchid ring again beneath my shirt.
May you like
Not yet.
One crisis at a time.
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