I asked one more question.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Her face crumpled.
“Because every time I tried, she said you’d think I was trying to get her in trouble.”
That was when the situation changed completely.
This was no longer about an argument between two adults. It was about my daughter believing that telling me the truth would somehow make her responsible for what happened next.
I sat beside her.
“You never have to protect an adult from the consequences of what they do to you.”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
Across the room, her stepmother looked away.
Then she said something I did not expect.
“I was trying to make her stronger.”
I looked at her.
“You don’t make someone stronger by taking away the thing that keeps them safe.”
She started to answer, but stopped.
I did not need another argument.
I needed facts.
