She hesitated.
“Will Patricia be angry?”
“She can be as angry as she likes. Her feelings are no longer your responsibility.”
For the first time that morning, I saw something other than fear in my daughter’s face.
It was relief.
We left the house just after eight.
Before driving away, I checked that the doors were locked and took a final look at the windows.
I had bought that house years earlier, after saving money from countless exhausting journeys. It had been intended to give Sofia stability after losing her mother.
I had never imagined that she would need to escape it to feel safe.
The doctor examined Sofia that morning and documented the injuries he found. Some bruises were healing, while others were more recent. He recommended that we speak with the appropriate child-protection authorities and make a formal report.
I followed his advice.
I gave a statement, provided the photographs and messages, and explained that my wife and two relatives had been living with my daughter while I was away working.
