I continue. “Depending on your interactions with me going forward, we’ll decide as a family when we feel comfortable with you having unsupervised visits with the girls.”

“The girls?” Ryle repeats incredulously, looking at Allysa. “Did she convince you I’m not safe around my own niece?” His voice is louder now.

The kitchen door swings open, and Marshall walks in. He takes a seat at the head of the table and looks from Ryle to Allysa. “Your mom has the girls in the living room,” he says to Allysa. “What’d I miss?”

“Are you aware of this?” Ryle asks Marshall.

Marshall stares at him for a beat, and then leans forward. “Am I aware you lost your temper with Lily last week and pinned her against a door? Or am I aware of the texts you sent her? Or the threats you made when she said she was talking to her lawyer?”

Ryle stares blankly at Marshall. His face reddens, but he doesn’t immediately react. He’s trapped in a corner, and he knows it. “A goddamn intervention,” Ryle mutters, shaking his head. He’s annoyed, irritated, a little bit betrayed. Understandable. But he can either agree to cooperate, or he can fracture the few remaining relationships left in his life.

Ryle pegs me with a jaded stare. “What else?” he asks, somewhat smugly.

“I’ve given you more than enough grace, Ryle. You know I have. But from this point forward, please know that Emerson is what matters to me. If you do anything threatening or harmful to me or our daughter, I will sell everything I own to fight you in court.”

“And I’ll help her,” Allysa says. “I love you, but I’ll help her.”

Ryle’s jaw is twitching. His expression is blank otherwise. He looks at Allysa and then at Marshall. The tension in the room is palpable, but so is the support. I could cry, I’m so grateful for them.

I could cry for all the victims who don’t have people like them.

Ryle stews over everything for a long beat. It’s so quiet, but I’ve made the point I wanted to make, and I’ve made it obvious that there’s no room for negotiation.

He eventually scoots back from the table and stands. He brings his hands to his hips and stares down at the floor. Then he drags in a long inhale before he heads for the kitchen door. Before he leaves, he looks back toward us, but makes eye contact with none of us. “I’m off this Thursday. I’ll be here around ten if you want to make sure Emerson is here.”

He leaves, and as soon as he does, my shield of armor collapses, and I shatter. Allysa puts her arms around me, but I’m not crying because I’m upset. I’m crying because I am so, so relieved. It actually feels like we accomplished something significant. “I don’t know what I’d do without you two,” I say through my tears, hugging Allysa.

She runs her hand over my hair and says, “You’d be so miserable, Lily.”