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And people believed them, because my mother knew how to make herself the victim, and my father knew how to stay quiet in a way that made her lies feel like truth. I tried to explain at first, I tried to tell my side, but every time I spoke, it felt like I was shouting into silence. So I stopped. I …

And people believed them, because my mother knew how to make herself the victim, and my father knew how to stay quiet in a way that made her lies feel like truth. I tried to explain at first, I tried to tell my side, but every time I spoke, it felt like I was shouting into silence. So I stopped. I stopped defending myself, stopped expecting fairness, stopped believing that anything I said would matter. The day I turned eighteen, I left. No argument, no goodbye, just a suitcase, a small amount of