Chapter 14 - We Moved Anyway
Rosie and I moved to Raleigh four months later.
The job waited.
So did the apartment I had rented.
People asked whether leaving looked like running.
I stopped caring.
Rosie started preschool.
She chose a purple backpack.
Her new teacher knew enough about the family situation to respond appropriately if unfamiliar relatives appeared.
Not every detail.
Children deserve privacy too.
Rosie’s bathroom fear faded slowly.
For weeks she wanted doors open.
Then one night she closed the bathroom door herself.
I almost opened it.
Stopped.
Three minutes later she emerged wearing pajamas backward.
“I did it.”
“You sure did.”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She rolled her eyes the way Megan used to.
My anger-management work continued after the legal requirement ended.
Not because I believed I was secretly violent.
Because I had spent my childhood learning that Cole men protected people by becoming frightening.
Dad threw things.
I hit Bethany.
Different degree.
Same family language.
I wanted Rosie to grow up speaking something else.
Boundary.
Distance.
Help.
Leave.
May you like
Call someone.
Those words protect children too.
