She asked whether I felt safe going home.
I didn’t answer immediately.
For months, I had answered questions like that with whatever response would keep the peace.
This time I told the truth.
“No.”
The word felt heavier than all the others.
The doctor didn’t tell me what decision to make. She simply listened, documented what I told her, and helped me understand what support was available.
That night, I stayed with the neighbor.
My husband called more than once.
I didn’t answer.
His sister sent one message.
She said she was sorry.
I read it twice.
Then I put the phone down.
An apology could matter.
But it couldn’t replace a boundary.
The next morning, my husband’s brother came to the porch alone.
He didn’t ask me to come home.
He didn’t defend his mother.
He simply said he was sorry for taking the brace.
