Official trigger warning for this chapter. It's not a scene of rape, but it insinuates it. I'm not saying everyone reacts this way or deals with it in the same way. I am in no way glorifying rape or anything like that.

Lia closes the door behind them. She slides to the ground, resting on the small step preceding the entrance. I lower myself next to her. "How are you, Lia? Really."

She shakes her head solemnly, her sight set on the late sky. "I don't know if I'm fit for them," she says quietly. The sunset's colors reflect in her eyes, identical to her sons'.

"Don't say that." I place a hand on her arm. "You just need more time to cope, to heal."

"Time?" Lia gives a harsh laugh that turns into a choked sob. "I've had time, Lynn, and I'm running out. It's been nearly six years. Six years, and I'm still trying. I'm still struggling." She drops her head into her hands and says, so soft I have to lean in to hear, "I'm still afraid."

"It will get better, Lia, I promise. I can't say when, but it won't always be like this." I pause, hesitant to bring him up. "You haven't seen him lately, have you?"

Another shake of her head. "No, a friend working with me at the tavern overheard from a table of guards that he'd been relocated to another city. He's still in Rioda, but at least he's farther from here. She told me I was being silly. That it was a one-night mistake and I shouldn't be scared or embarrassed to see him again just because the feeling wasn't mutual. She's not the only one who says that, though. But I guess that's what happens when you tell everyone you became pregnant because of a foolish, drunken night where you weren't thinking straight." She lowers her voice. "That's what happens when you don't tell the truth."

Lia raises her head and studied the neighboring run-down shacks identical to her own. After a moment of silence, she says, "I didn't always live in a place like this, you know. My old home was on the other side of the city, with my siblings and parents. They were merchants, and successful ones, too. I remember as a child I would wander the back of their shop, running my hands along silks and playing with beads. Mother would always find me draped in colorful fabrics and chains of pearls looped around my neck, pretending I was a princess. Instead of punishing me or becoming angry for risking the expensive materials, she would play along."

I stay silent. It's not the first time Lia speaks about her past, but it always brings some life into her eyes as she recalls her happier days.

"Father would always find time for each and every one of my siblings and I, which was pretty impressive since there were quite a few of us," she says with a small laugh. "He would fashion kites out of spare fabric and run faster than us as he tried to get them into the air. He was always smiling, even when he came home from a hard day. Him and Mother, they never failed to remind us of how much they loved us and how they would do anything to make us happy. I never doubted them, never doubted how far they would go to support us and keep us safe. Until that day."

I watch Lia carefully. She's never gone into depth about what exactly happened the night she left home; only saying that once she found out she was pregnant a few weeks later, she left and never went back.

A beat passes. Two. Then, "I came home that night. I didn't tell anyone what had happened. I returned well after curfew, soaking wet and my clothes were torn. I barely have any memories from the rest of the night. All I remember is walking home from the shops after Mother asked me to stay behind and lock up since she wasn't feeling well. It was a half-hour to curfew, and I wasn't old enough to have a pass to be out after dark, so I wasn't paying attention to those around me as I hurried home. I was maybe ten minutes away when a guard stopped me and asked what I was doing out so close to sunset, and I quickly told him why. I said I was still a bit far and needed to be on my way. He just nodded and smiled and stepped aside."

Not a word comes from me. I don't want her to stop; she can't keep all this pain inside her. Lia's eyes fill with barely restrained tears as she continues to talk. "I kept going, but I couldn't get that smile out of my head. The way his eyes glinted when I mentioned I wasn't near home. I shook it off and told myself I was being ridiculous. I had grown up with my parents telling me l the guards were there for our safety. It was easy enough to believe – the ones stationed around our sector were nice enough and sometimes played along with our games as children.

"After a few minutes, there were less people around me. Only a few crossed my path, and they were concerned with their own matters. Then, out of nowhere, someone grabbed my arm and yanked me into an unlit narrow path. It was that same guard. He asked me if I was still far from home. I couldn't move. There was something in his expression that terrified me." Tears stream freely down her face as the words continue to flow out of her in a torrent of raw pain. "He pressed me against the wall and–" she breaks off, her hand covering her mouth.

She meets my eyes, then averts her gaze to her hands. She continues in a broken voice. "I went home later. I don't know what time it was, but it was dark and raining. I opened the door to my mother's frantic yells and found her pacing the entry, my siblings huddled at the base of the stairs. Mother cried out at the sight of me and pulled me into her arms, and everyone crowded around us. I barely heard what she was saying. I was numb. I remember someone saying that Father had gone out searching for me with some of my older brothers. I didn't speak. I just mumbled that I had fallen and hit my head and fell unconscious. I don't remember much else, just blurry moments of changing and lying awake in bed long after everyone had slept. Weeks later, I realized I was pregnant. I didn't know what else to do, so I went and told my mother."

Her face twists with sorrow at her next words. "All my life, my mother had shown me unconditional love and concern and happiness. But at that moment, all of it disappeared as my mother slapped me in horror. She told my father, and they blamed me. They said it was my fault and that I had brought it upon myself, that no self-respecting man would commit such a vile act. I had brought their family absolute shame and tarnished their name. They good as told me to leave, and I did. I ran up to the room I shared with my younger sister and threw whatever I could fit into a bag. I grabbed the stash of coins I had been saving for a couple years and walked out. I remember being excited a few months before, about the amount of money I had saved up. I had wanted to buy a painting set."

Lia's voice becomes hollow her eyes have a faraway look. "That evening, I walked out of the home I had cherished for fifteen years. As the door slammed shut, I don't think my parents even called out to me. With the money I had, I stayed in an inn for a few months before my supply began to dwindle. I found work at a small farm run by an old couple who housed me after I told them I had run from a group of bandits weeks ago that killed my husband. Months later, I gave birth to the twins and the old couple helped me for a couple years. One day, they were arrested in the market for harboring a Relict. I never saw the Relict, but the couple was taken into the square and given the same punishment as they would a Relict. After that, I bounced around for a couple of years, trying ot find work and a place for the twins. Eventually I was hired at the tavern and came here."

I sit in silent shock. Never could I have imagined Lia's story as dark as this. I knew the basics of her life and how she had the twins, but never this much detail. I study her face; the dark circles beneath her eyes; the premature furrows lining her face; the hopelessness that she carries in her eyes. In times like this, it's all too easy to forget she's only five years older than me.

"Sometimes," Lia breaks the silence hanging between us. "I go to sleep, hoping for some reprieve from my endless worries and fears and doubts, but even there he haunts me. And there are times when I look at them," her eyes linger on the door for a few moments, "and try as I might, love them as I do, there are moments when I look at them and–" her voice breaks as a tear slips down her cheek. "–and everything from that night comes rushing back to me, and I see him." She shudders violently and looks at me with teary eyes.

"I love them more than life itself, but it's unbelievable how they hold a part of my life I want to forget, and a part I never want to lose. But at the same time, I worry that I can't give them what they deserve. They don't deserve to go to bed some nights with empty stomachs, or wear threadbare clothes, or huddle together when there isn't enough heat in the winter. They deserve comfort and security, a warm home and bed and food to depend on. They deserve to go to school and play with other children and be happy and safe. They deserve better than me."

"No," I say firmly. "They deserve you, and you deserve them. You give them everything you have and more. You are incredibly brave and strong and resilient, proven by how you continue on even with what you've endured. What happened to you that night was something no one deserves. You did nothing wrong, and your parents failed as the people who were supposed to love and care for you."

Lia stares at the pile of bricks across the alley, and I move to place myself in her line of sight and make her meet my eyes.

"You suffered a horrific event that is in no way justifiable. There is nothing that you did wrong. No matter how you acted, or how you dressed, or how you talked, it is never an excuse for someone to act in such a way. That guard is a cruel, disgusting monster, and he is the one that should be blamed. Anyone who says otherwise has allied themselves with men like that and may as well be responsible for that kind of behavior and inhumane act."

Tears start up again in Lia's eyes and I soften. "Lia, please, never blame yourself for what happened," I beg. "You were victim to a treacherous act that was in no way your fault. Don't let yourself succumb to the words of those who are ignorant and don't look at the whole picture. Don't believe in the lies spoken to you, that blame you, and have no purpose but to keep you quiet."

The knowledge of Lia's true pain and self-loathing pent up for years break my heart and I can't fathom how she kept it all in for so long.

"You are a force to be reckoned with, Lia," I continue. "Despite everything you have been through, you have continued to raise those boys, even though anyone with a heart would understood why you would have chosen not to. You are a phoenix, Lia. After so many hardships and trauma that have torn you down, you rose up stronger than before. What that man did to you was awful and revolting and was meant to leave you tattered, but you're still fighting. You're still pushing. It could take a few more moths or a few more years – you need to heal on you own time. Don't push yourself to try and recover faster. Don't shove aside your pain. Allow yourself to come to terms with everything in your own way.

"I won't tell you that you'll forget about it one day, or that it will all be in the past, because it won't. You will still remember it. But eventually, the scars won't run as deep, and they'll become less prominent. It won't be easy, but you are strong. What I will tell you is that you are capable and a warrior, and it won't always be this way."

Lia nods tearfully and I wrap my arms around her. "Your boys can't get any better than you, and they know it."

She pulls away from me after a few minutes and wipes at her tears. I walk into the small yard and move a patch of weeds aside to reveal the larkspur stalk. I pluck one of the flowers that have never died, no matter the weather or harsh planting conditions. Kneeling in front of Lia, I place the flower in her hands "Do you remember when these were brought?" I ask.

She nods with a watery smile. "Yes," she gives a small laugh. "Daniel and Thomas came running. Each of them wanted to be the first to give it to me."

I smile. "You see? They love you and need you. You've raised them to be sweet and kind and caring and strong." I place a hand on her shoulder and she lifts her head. "You've raised them to be like you."

Her head drops back down, gazing at the blue flower. After a minute, she stands, and I do the same. "Thank you, Lynn," she says softly. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

I pull her into another hug. "You'd still be the same, incredible person. And listen, if you ever need to talk at all, I'm here."

This is the end of the only mention of sexual assault that goes this far. If anyone at all feels as though I have written anything that is inaccurate or insensitive towards this matter and survivors, let me know. I am in no way claiming this is the reaction of every sexual assault survivor.