Chapter 16
I enrolled in school the following spring.
Part-time.
Child development and trauma support.
The first day, I sat in a classroom with students younger than me and felt ridiculous.
Then the professor asked why we were there.
One student said she loved kids.
Another said she wanted to become a therapist.
When my turn came, I said, “Because I know what happens when children are not believed.”
The room went quiet.
The professor nodded.
“That is a powerful reason.”
I studied at night.
Worked by day.
Saw David sometimes.
Saw Leo often.
My life became full in a way that exhausted me and fed me at the same time.
Leo turned five and demanded a superhero party.
He gave me a cape.
“Friend Shield,” he announced.
I wore it for two hours.
David took pictures.
One caught me laughing with Leo on my hip, red cape crooked, hair falling loose.
Later, David sent it to me.
Under it, he wrote:
This is my favorite picture.
I stared at it longer than I should have.
Then I saved it.
May you like
Not because I needed proof of anything.
Because joy deserved evidence too.
