Chapter 14
Maggie was two when Dylan was released.
I found out from a victim notification email.
My hands went numb.
Marcus took Maggie to the park while I called my therapist.
I had learned that panic deserved support, not shame.
Dylan moved to a supervised residence three towns away.
His parole conditions barred contact.
For six months, he obeyed them.
Then one afternoon, a letter came.
Not to me.
To Maggie.
My vision went red.
He had written her name in careful block letters.
A child’s name.
My child.
I called Ramirez, now a detective.
He picked up immediately.
“He violated conditions,” I said.
He asked no unnecessary questions.
Within hours, Dylan was back in custody.
His lawyer claimed he only wanted to apologize to the family.
The judge disagreed.
So did I.
At the hearing, Dylan looked at me.
He was thinner.
Older.
Less beautiful in the way spoiled men become when charm no longer feeds them.
“I just wanted her to know she has an uncle,” he said.
I stood.
“No. You wanted a door.”
He cried.
I felt sad.
Then I let the sadness pass through without opening anything.
The judge tightened restrictions.
Dylan lost early release privileges.
That night, Maggie slept in my lap while Marcus locked the doors.
I touched her curls.
“She will never know him as danger,” I whispered.
Marcus kissed my forehead.
May you like
“She will know him as a boundary.”
That was enough.
