Pāhonoa te oro

“I’ve been in the dark long enough to know… the most dangerous place is the one you call home.” I was six years old. And I already knew how to survive. My father… was the kind of man you learn to listen for. The way the car door slammed… told you how bad it would be. That night— the window shattered. I knew. Worse than usual. “Go hide, Lílian.” My mom whispered. “Don’t come out.” So I did what I always did. I hid. And I waited. I heard him break in. He was screaming her name.