Daniel messages anyway, through routes he thinks don’t count.
An email from a new address saying you’re destroying Emily’s life. A voicemail left with your mother saying he only wants to talk. A note slipped into your mailbox that says I can forgive you if you stop this now, which would be funny if it weren’t such a precise fossil of his worldview. Your attorney tells you to keep everything. So you do. Every message becomes evidence. Every attempt to revise himself becomes a gift he does not realize he is giving.
Emily notices more than you want and less than you fear.
She asks why Daddy can’t sleep here. You tell her because Daddy made choices that were not safe, and grown-ups have to face consequences when they hurt people. She asks whether he hurt you. You say yes. She is quiet for a long time after that, turning the zipper pull on her hoodie between her fingers.
