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“We wouldn’t have turned you in.”

“I know.” Her voice softens. “I believe that now. But I didn’t know who I could trust.”

I nod. “I get that. Do you trust us now?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me what changed. Because you went from a woman finding her way to a shell of yourself today.”

She hesitates. And I can tell she’s weighing how much she can tell me.

“I used the laptop.”

“Okay. I told you that you could. But you didn’t seem interested before.”

“I wasn’t,” she says quickly. “Not really. But I needed to know. I told myself it would help if I could just...see how bad it was. If they were even looking for me.”

“And?”

Her lips press together, and her eyes drop. “There were messages. Dozens of them. From everyone—friends, relatives, people I haven’t spoken to in years. Some were kind. Most weren’t.”

Ah. I can see how that might derail her.

“They think I’ve lost my mind,” she continues. “That I’ve been brainwashed, or kidnapped. That I’ve been poisoned by ‘bad influences.’”

I take her hand in mine and squeeze it gently. “And your parents?”

She pulls her hand from mine so she can wrap her arms around her knees again. She curls in tighter this time.

“They’re leading the charge. My mother said I’ve humiliated the family. My father wants me to come home immediately and ‘do the right thing’ before it’s too late. I’m not a good daughter. I’ve forgotten my place. I’ll regret this.”

Her voice cracks on that last part.

“They think I’m broken,” she says. “Or dangerous. Or both.”

“Are you?”

She blinks, startled. “What?”

“Are you broken?” I ask again. “Are you dangerous?”

“No,” she whispers.

“Then they’re wrong.”

She exhales. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not,” I admit. “I know that.”

“I just wanted to be free,” she says. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone. I didn’t mean to make a mess. I just...I didn’t want to disappear.”

“You’re not disappearing,” I tell her. “You’re finding yourself.”

She looks away, but I see the way her mouth trembles.

We’re silent for a while after that. I don’t know if she’s realized it, but she’s moved closer to me. All it would take is forme to tilt my body a little and she'd be pressed into my side. Before I can make a move, she speaks again.

“Do you think it’s selfish to want more?”