She held her blanket around her shoulders and looked at the yard for a long moment before she spoke.
“It started before you moved here,” she said. “I mean before we came to stay with you. The first time we visited, last Thanksgiving.”
I said nothing.
“At first I thought I was imagining it. Steven was always polite. Always the one refilling glasses and making everyone laugh. Then he started standing too close. Saying things that could be interpreted two ways — things where, if I reacted, he could claim I misunderstood. Where he had complete deniability.”My stomach turned.
“Why didn’t you tell Thomas?”
“Because I thought no one would believe me.” She said it without bitterness, just with the flat conviction of someone who has thought this through many times. “Because he’s charming, and likeable, and everyone in your family thinks he’s wonderful. Men like that survive because the people around them already have a reason to doubt the woman.”
