Dear Emmy,

I have decided to write everything down for you personally, even though I do have my doubts. I question if you should know exactly what happened to us-me, you, Callie-at the hands of our unpredictable, vicious mother. How we lived back then, when I was fifteen and you only seven, all of us full of dread. And then filled with hope when we fulfilled Murdoch, the man who seemed to be showing us an easier future. What Murdoch do and what he couldn’t do. What you and I did so. Part of me expectations that you’ll complement happily all of your life rather than wish to know the details.

But I need to make sense of it. I need to try to switch the experience into something valuable for you, as well as for myself-not just something to be pushed aside and neglected. Emmy, the events we lived through taught me to be sure of nothing at all about other folks. They trained me to anticipate risk around every part. They taught me to understand that there are people in this world who mean you harm.

Matthew