She opened her tightly clenched palm. The precious stone gleamed words at her. “I am here. You are safe. We are all here with you.” She felt drawn into its depths, the flashes of deep mauve, the lilac glints, its strong, dark amethyst heart. And she could feel that sense of safety in her now, despite the bruises blossoming on her arms and under her right eye. Their purple stains a reminder of what had to change.

Yesterday, she’d thought it was going to be alright. She’d prepared his favourite aubergine stew, and the rich smell of sage and coriander filled the tiny kitchen. She’d tidied up from the previous night’s drinking bout, scrubbed clean the violet wine rings on the coffee table. He’d promised a fresh start that morning. A change of heart. He loved her so much. He wanted them to be together as a family, he’d assured her, stroking her swelling belly. The belly which only hours earlier she’d been shielding from his blows. 

But as the sky darkened first to magenta streaks of sunset and then the indigo of dusk, she’d felt the foreboding build in her. He was late, the stew was drying out. It would be another evening of fear and dread. Another morning of remorse and reconciliation.And so she had come here today. Brushing through the scent of lavender to visit the ancient stones. She had lain among them, drifting into a meditative dream, carried to a higher, clearer, lighter place. And she’d been given this gift, this protective totem. “It’s not to keep you safe at home,” they explained, “it’s for you to know you are safe in your heart. So you can find the courage to flee towards the life you crave. The life you and your child deserve. It’s time.”