At first it was incredibly difficult. My colleagues were already way ahead, and sometimes I would wake up in the night hearing Margaret’s voice in my head, convinced that she was ordering me to clean the floor again.
But I graduated.
On the day of my final exam, Helen was waiting for me outside.
I was holding a small bouquet of flowers and a blue ribbon made from the fabric of my old school uniform.
My father never apologized. He lost his company and spent a long time telling everyone that I was the one who destroyed our family.
Perhaps, in his mind, that was true.
But I hadn’t destroyed any families.
I had simply refused to continue being part of an agreement in which my life had a price, but my voice had no value.
