My parents kicked me out one day after my C-section—with my newborn in my arms. Then my husband pulled up, looked at my face, and made one phone call that changed everything.

That evening after Paige went down, Wendy sat at the kitchen table and began writing—not to Suzanne, but for herself. Dr. Mercer had suggested a timeline exercise: not to relive everything, but to place memory in sequence so manipulation lost one of its favorite hiding places. Wendy wrote down all the moments that had taught her to disappear. Cheryl getting her birthday cake flavor every year because Wendy “wasn’t picky.” Philip skipping Wendy’s high school debate championship to attend Cheryl’s junior varsity volleyball game because “she needs encouragement more.” Suzanne telling relatives Wendy was “moody” during college whenever Wendy set even a mild boundary. Cheryl wearing white to Wendy’s rehearsal dinner because she said cream “looked better on her skin tone.” Philip joking at the wedding that Mitchell was “taking the difficult one off our hands.” Suzanne laughing.