Chapter 18
At twelve, Sophie decided she wanted to meet Eleanor.
I nearly said no before she finished.
Dr. Lane helped us prepare.
One hour.
Therapist’s office.
No gifts.
No touching unless Sophie asked.
No excuses.
Eleanor arrived early.
No pearls.
No command in her posture.
Just an old woman with trembling hands.
Sophie sat beside me.
Eleanor looked at her.
“I hurt you by helping Vanessa hurt you,” she said.
Sophie watched her.
“I was scared in the pantry.”
Eleanor’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“You didn’t open it.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Eleanor cried silently.
“Because I cared more about being obeyed than being good.”
Sophie looked at Dr. Lane.
Then at me.
Then back at Eleanor.
“I don’t want visits yet.”
Eleanor nodded.
“That is your choice.”
Sophie stood.
“You can write letters. Daddy reads first.”
“I will.”
On the way home, Sophie was quiet.
Then she said, “She sounded sorry.”
“She did.”
“Sorry doesn’t fix pantry.”
“No.”
“But it can stop new pantry.”
I gripped the wheel.
“Yes. It can.”
That was the beginning of a careful, distant repair.
Not full.
May you like
Not easy.
But honest.
