There is no safer. There’s not even safe, never has been.

You hurt her by starving yourself, you hurt her with your lies, and by fighting everybody who tries to help you. Emma can only sleep a couple of hours a night now. She's haunted by nightmares of monsters that eat our whole family. They eat us slowly, she says, so we can feel their sharp teeth.

I am the space between my thighs, daylight shining through.

I stuff my mouth with old fabric and scream until there are no sounds left under my skin.

So, she tells me, the words dribbling out with the cranberry muffin crumbs, commas dunked in her coffee.

We're good at taking care of little kids, and spend a lot of energy teaching them things like how to read. But when kids get as tall as their parents and can look them in the eyes, we tend to drop the ball - at a time they most need a loving consistent community of adults, be it parents, aunts, uncles, or others.

What do I want? The answer to that question does not exist.