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I wish this was not a cautionary tale about what happens to girls who wander off in the dark.
More than anything, Chelsey wishes there was a way to know when you were experiencing the happiest moments of your life.
HERE IS A TIP FOR all the girls out there: Never let an abductor take you to a second location. And here are some tips for all the parents of girls out there: Make sure your daughters know there are bigger things to worry about than how much body hair they have, or who is taking whom to prom, or how many friends they have online. Teach them never to pull over onto the side of the road when someone flashes their lights. Or to walk into an alley next to a nightclub. Or ride their bike down the street in broad daylight. Or leave a motel room to find an unoccupied bathroom…
He should have taught his daughters that you cannot save yourself from heartbreak. You cannot save yourself from grief.
A plain white folded piece of paper with nine words printed on the inside: MAY YOU NEVER IGNORE YOUR GROWING SENSE OF DISQUIET.
Blaming yourself is common in these scenarios. People are conditioned to believe girls plus bad choices equals bad things. It’s a type of inoculation. Lead a good life, and nothing heinous will befall you. But no one is invulnerable. No one untouched.
“Sometimes there is no method to the madness.” It often seems that way. But Chelsey knows that violent men are not inevitable. They are not a matter of course. Of nature. Of being born. Violent men are forged. They are made. All of this… all of it is preventable.
Chelsey wondered if her father, if people in general, should spend less time protecting daughters and more time worrying about sons. The dangerous things boys do. How they might be raised differently. She’d mentioned something similar to her father once, and he’d gazed at her hard, then said even harder, I don’t have any sons.
Danny has never seen such an ugly thing as survival.
“It is okay, or it will be.” He pauses, grips the wheel tighter. “If you want to sleep in a crawlspace, I’ll build a bed there for you. If you want to hit someone, you can hit me. If you need exits, I’ll open windows. If you don’t want to be touched, I will sit next to you. If you panic, I will find a paper bag for you to breathe into,” he vows.
Why did no one ever tell Lydia that the most dangerous thing in the world isn’t natural disasters or wars or weapons? It is unremarkable men with beautiful smiles and even bigger promises.
