I wish I had known that the feeling of not being sure is not the same as being wrong. I spent a lot of the first two weeks in a state of uncertain confidence — I was fairly sure what had happened but I was not completely sure, and that uncertainty felt like a reason to wait. What I understand now is that you can follow the correct process while still being uncertain. The process does not require certainty. It requires documentation and accurate statement of what you know. I knew enough to start. Starting was the right move.
I also wish I had known that other people’s versions of the story would arrive before I had a chance to establish mine. My mother had a version. She told it to Luke before I had fully told Luke my version. That is how families work, and it is worth being prepared for it: the person who has something to protect will often have the first word, because they have more motivation to move quickly. That does not mean they have the accurate word. It means you may have to do the work of establishing your version clearly, and you may find that people have already absorbed someone else’s before you get there.
And I wish I had known — or had let myself fully believe, since I think I knew it intellectually — that doing the right thing does not feel clean. It felt uncomfortable and sad and uncertain and guilt-adjacent for months, even when I was confident it was right. The right thing and the easy thing are often very different things, and the right thing often does not come with the immediate relief you might hope for.