Children don’t have adult prejudices.
But Emily picked at her food in silence, uncomfortable at her own table.
And I, sitting at Linda’s house two miles away, imagined the scene with a smile.
The weeks passed.
Daniel and I started therapy.
The first day was devastating.
We both cried for the entire session.
“I let her get lost,” he told the therapist. “I let our bond break because it was easier to keep the peace with Emily than to defend you.”
“And I let it happen,” I admitted, “because I was afraid of being alone. I was afraid that if I protested, they would kick me out and I’d have nowhere to go.”
The therapist, Dr. Montero, looked at us with compassion.
“Fear makes us allow intolerable things,” she said. “But you two still have a chance to rebuild.”
And slowly, session by session, we began to do just that.
