My stepfather b:ea:t my twin sister and me every day because our fear gave him pleasure. One night, he b:ea:t us both unconscious, dragged us into the emergency room while my mother whispered, “They fell down the stairs.” The doctor examined the identical b:ruises on our bodies, locked the door, and told the security guard, “Call 911, immediately.”

“I wake up,” I said. “And I remember that he can never reach us again.”

Behind prison walls, Edric had nothing left to control.

Brenda sent letters that we never bothered to open.

Chloe and I walked toward the campus together, no longer listening for keys turning in heavy locks.

For the first time in our lives, silence did not mean danger. It simply meant peace.