You do not celebrate when the judgement is passed down. You do not clap your hands together or snap your fingers, you do not exclaim in enthusiasm or in relief but you do feel air rush quietly from your lungs and then, for the first time in six weeks, slowly, like you’re relearning, like you’ve forgotten, like you have never been human before, you begin to breathe again.

The tension of fear, when it's built over thousands of days and years of manipulations, is almost undetectable or indiscernible, after this amount of time, to oneself, to the naked eye.