After my stepfather injured my twin sister and me, he brought us to the hospital. My mother calmly told the doctor, “They just fell down the stairs.” My stepfather smiled, thinking he had won. But as the nurse checked my vitals, I slipped a handwritten note into her pocket, and…

began walking toward the university campus together. The air smelled of blooming cherry blossoms and rain. For the first time in our conscious memory, we were not bracing for an impact. We were not listening for the sound of a key turning in a lock, or the heavy tread of boots on the stairs.

For the first time in our lives, the silence around us did continue reading …