My five-year-old daughter always bathed with my husband.

It was also about me, about all the times I stayed silent for fear of messing everything up.

I, too, had learned from a young age that the peace of a home was worth more than a woman’s truth.

Only I had never said it like that.

The following days were filled with paperwork, interviews, borrowed clothes, sleeping pills I didn’t want to take, and a constant feeling of walking on thin glass.

Mark was released on restrictions while the investigation continued.

He was prohibited from approaching Sophie.

He was also prohibited from having any direct contact with me, except through lawyers.

I learned the news through a formal email, and then through a message from my mother that said,

“See, they didn’t even keep him in custody.

Be careful about ruining a life.”

I didn’t respond.

But I understood that the battle wasn’t just legal.

It was also about narrative.

The world loves clean versions, and I was entering into a dirty story.