I felt the blood drain right out of my face. I thought about the hours I spend working my shifts. I thought about how I’d come home and find the house spotless, the dinner warm, and think, well, isn’t that nice. He’s keeping things organized.

“And if I ever tell,” she whispered, her voice cracking, “he said he’ll make sure you never come home again.”

That was the moment. The room went cold. I sat there in the dark, and I didn’t even know how to breathe. I realized then that every time I walked out that door, I was leaving her in a cage.

I think back to two months ago. It was a Tuesday. Or maybe a Wednesday. It doesn’t matter much now. I came home early from the plant, feeling sick with a migraine. The house was quiet. Too quiet. I found Marty in the living room, and he looked surprised, but he covered it up with that easy smile of his.

“You’re home early,” he said.

He was holding a book. Ruby was nowhere to be seen. I just assumed she was playing outside. I didn’t think twice because he was always so calm, so steady. He had this way of making everything feel like it was under control.

Now, I see it. I see the way he would watch her. I see the way he would look at me when I suggested she go to a sleepover. He always had a reason why she shouldn’t. “She needs her rest,” he’d say. “She needs to learn her lessons.”

I look at the floorboards now and I see the marks. I look at the corner of the room and I see the dust that isn’t there because she was standing in it for hours. I was so busy trying to build a new life that I let a monster move into the middle of it.

I feel that guilt like a stone in my stomach. It is a heavy thing. A lie don’t get better sitting in a drawer, and I guess the truth don’t get better sitting in a heart either. I should have seen it. I should have felt the change in her.