That night, he installed a security camera on the side of our house. He said it was to watch Thomas. But it pointed directly at my bedroom window.

That’s when the “nightly safety checks” began. After Mom was asleep, he’d slip into my room, his weight sinking the edge of my bed. He’d sit there in the dark and explain in sickening detail what men like Thomas supposedly wanted from little girls. The first time I tried to tell Mom, she was folding laundry, her back to me.