I always thought my mother survived my father by staying small. Then the night he tried to erase her from our house, I found out she had been quietly preparing for years.
I grew up thinking my mother was weak.
Carol never raised her voice. When things got ugly in our house, she would put on her green coat, take the car, disappear for an hour, and come back composed. As a kid, I thought that meant she gave in. Later, I thought it meant she was afraid.
I was wrong.
That was the official story.
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