( Esther's Point of View)
The message looked like it had teeth on my screen.
Esther, your father didn't go away. He was taken away.
My thumb kept hovering over it, as if I thought that if I pressed hard enough, the words would turn into something nicer. Something easy. Something I could breathe in.
But it didn't change.
I sat on the couch with my knees bent. It was warm in the room, but my hands were cold. Matthew stood by the window with his back to me and looked out into the night. He hadn't moved much since I sent him the message. He had only said one thing.
"Who would send that?"
Then he stopped talking.
That silence was louder than any scream.
I made a noise in my throat. “Matthew.”
He didn't move.
I tried again, this time with more force. "Matthew, look at me."
With a slo
