my hands are shaking a little, remembering the sound of their voices, tiny and certain, and for a second the ache in my shoulders...gone. The body remembers, long after the mind has filed it away under "handled." I catch myself bracing for impact in situations that are now perfectly safe, a phantom tension in my jaw that I have to consciously release. It's a relief, most days, to realize the threat is gone, but the echo is a constant reminder of how hard I fought to get here.