Margaret stopped locking the bathroom door.
She stopped flinching when someone stood behind her.
She still did not let most caregivers touch her back.
But she no longer screamed.
One morning, Sophie prepared the basin.
Margaret removed her robe.
She turned around.
Sophie gently washed the scar.
Margaret stared straight ahead.
Her breathing stayed steady.
When Sophie finished, Margaret looked in the mirror.
“I thought this scar was proof he won.”
Sophie shook her head.
“No.”
Margaret touched the edge of the tissue.
“What is it then?”
“Proof you survived him.”
Margaret was silent.
Then she nodded.
Claire began visiting every other weekend.
Sometimes she brought her daughters.
Margaret met her granddaughters.
The first visit was awkward.
The second was easier.
By the fifth, the girls were arguing over who got to sit beside Margaret during lunch.
Margaret taught them crossword tricks.
They taught her how to make video calls.
