Chapter 17 - SARAH’S ANGER
My anger did not disappear because courts worked.
If anything, after the adrenaline faded, it became harder.
I imagined Helen laughing.
Robert joking.
Relatives chuckling.
Me throwing the plate.
Lily screaming.
I hated the moment where I looked powerful.
Because I knew what Lily saw.
Another adult losing control.
My therapist, Maya Levin, asked:
“What do you want Lily to remember?”
“That I protected her.”
“Did throwing the plate protect her?”
“No.”
“What did?”
“Taking her home.”
“Calling lawyers.”
“Yes.”
“Listening when she said it happened before.”
“Yes.”
“Then build the identity around those choices.”
That changed something.
I stopped telling friends:
“I snapped.”
As though snapping were inevitable.
I said:
“I chose violence and regretted it.”
More accurate.
Lily eventually asked:
“Would you throw it again?”
“No.”
“What would you do?”
“Take your hand. Leave. Call police if needed. Call Naomi.”
She smiled.
“Naomi scary.”
“She is.”
Naomi found this deeply flattering.
At seven, Lily saw Helen in a courthouse hallway.
She froze.
Helen stopped too.
The no-contact order prevented approach.
Helen looked away.
That was the first boundary she followed without argument.
Lily squeezed my hand.
“Can we go?”
“Yes.”
We did.
May you like
No confrontation.
That felt more powerful than the plate ever had.
