Patricia and I began divorce proceedings.
During one of the meetings, her lawyer suggested that we might be able to settle the matter privately if I agreed to withdraw certain complaints.
I refused.
“This is not a bargaining chip,” I said. “The people responsible need to answer for what happened. My daughter deserves better than a secret agreement designed to protect the adults who hurt her.”
The meeting ended shortly afterward.
I walked outside into the afternoon sunlight and took a deep breath.
For the first time since that night in the laundry room, I felt that I was moving forward rather than simply reacting to the next disaster.
Nearly a year after I came home early, Sofia and I returned to the house in León.
We did not return because we had to.
We returned because Sofia wanted to see it again, and because I wanted her to know that the place where she had suffered would not control the rest of her life.
