Perhaps they were right.
The previous years had not v@nished.
They simply appeared different once I stopped viewing everything through the most forgiving interpretation possible.
I remembered every occasion my mother dismissed Emma’s emotions as attention seeking. I remembered my father calling her overly sensitive whenever she became overwhelmed. I remembered Lauren expecting Emma to give up toys, opportunities, and adult attention so her cousins could remain happy.
The airport incident had not emerged from nowhere.
It was simply the first time their hierarchy became too d@ngerous to overlook.
They had always believed Emma would be the easiest child to inconvenience because I would fix the d@mage afterward.
That belief ended beside Gate B19.
Emma continued therapy and slowly regained her independence. She stopped following me through every room. She no longer watched from the window when I carried trash outside. At school, she stopped asking for a detailed schedule each morning.
