When Megan was 16 she lost her dad and her voice simultaneously. She stopped going to school, she hardly ate anything and didn’t care about playing either football or the mandolin anymore. She stayed in her room and she didn’t laugh nor cry. She didn’t smile.

Megan’s mother had her own grief to deal with, but it was thrown aside in her desperate attempts to get her daughter back to life. She hired counselors, psychiatrists, brought Megan’s friends over, tried everything she could think of, but nothing got her Megan talking. She just stayed in her room, watched TV, or played with her computer. She took some walks in the evenings, but never gave any indication of where she went or what she did.

Megan’s mother did not know what to do. She tried to focus on work and just prayed that this was a period that would pass. That it was just grief holding its firm grip on her daughter. A grip that she knew, deep inside, would loosen, but never slip.

After six months had passed Megan’s mother got a package in the mail. It was a book with the text “3 years of abuse and half a year of silence” on the cover. Inside was a story she recognized, but had never heard before. It was a story that made her body shake with sadness. It was a story that made her want to rip the pages out of the book in front of her. It was a story that made her grief over her husband turn into anger.

It was a story that, later, when Megan returned from her walk, made mother and daughter hug and cry together for the first time in a long time. It was a story that made Megan find her voice again.

“I am sorry, mom”, she said.