“He hadn’t stroked my cheek. He hadn’t held me as I slept. He had slept on the floor beside the bed, if he slept at all. Most nights he just sat against the wall, staring into space. His nose would flare, his hands would fist, and my heart would break. I didn’t know what I’d done to upset him. I didn’t want to displease him. I only ever wanted to make him happy. He was the most important thing in my life.”