Chapter 13 - THE PINK TOWEL
Khloe kept the pink towel.
For months, I wanted to throw it away.
She refused.
“It’s mine.”
So it stayed.
Her fear did not disappear when Derek’s case ended.
She became nervous at large family gatherings.
She checked where I was.
Asked whether Derek knew our address.
He did.
That frightened me too.
We followed the legal restrictions in place and developed practical safety plans without teaching her that danger was everywhere.
Therapy helped.
Time helped more.
One summer afternoon, nearly two years later, Khloe carried the pink towel outside.
She spread it on the grass.
Then lay on it eating watermelon.
I stood at the kitchen window staring.
Nothing happened.
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That was why it mattered.
An object that once belonged to a terrifying afternoon had become a towel again.
