There is a question I keep returning to when I write The Consent Chronicles: if a painful memory could be changed to spare someone suffering, who has the right to consent?
It sounds simple until I imagine the person living with that memory. Pain is not the only thing it carries. A memory can hold a name, a promise, a love, a warning, a piece of the self. To take it away, even gently, might ease one wound and open another.
I don’t think care gives one person ownership of another person’s inner...