Chapter 7 - The Line I Finally Drew
I wrote the message at 2 a.m. when the house was quiet and Grace was sleeping.
It wasn’t long.
“Mom and Dad,
I’ve decided that Grace and I will not be visiting your house for the foreseeable future. What happened to her glasses and the way she was treated afterward was not okay. I will not expose my daughter to people who hurt her and then minimize it.
If you want to see Grace, it will be on my terms — in public, with me present, and only when I believe she is safe. Until then, please respect our space.
I love you. But I love my daughter more.
Erin.”
I read it three times.
Then I sent it to both of them in a group message.
My mother replied within minutes.
“You’re being cruel. Family forgives.”
My father didn’t reply at all.
I turned my phone face down and went to check on Grace.
She was curled on her side, one hand resting on the new glasses case beside her pillow like she needed to know they were still there.
I sat on the edge of her bed and brushed hair from her face.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to see it clearly,” I whispered. “But I see it now. And I’m not looking away again.”
Grace stirred but didn’t wake.
I stayed there until my legs went numb.
Then I went back to the kitchen, opened my document one more time, and added the date and time I sent the message to my parents.
May you like
The line had been drawn.
Now I just had to hold it.
