I was 8 when I think it began. My best friend was Chinese, the family ran a takeaway. We’d been friends almost our whole lives, and I stayed at their house regularly. I remember her dad tickling us both. Then he started moving under my top. It progressed to him groping my barely formed breasts if I was alone in a room, which happened more and more as my friend started working in the takeaway. I thought it was maybe normal in their culture. I laughed as if he was still tickling me. It lasted for 3 years, being pinned down and groped. I turned 11. His hands went down instead of up. Into my underwear. Into me. That was the first time I realised this wasn’t normal. His wife came home, saving me from anything further. I never went back to that house and never spoke to my friend again. I couldn’t face the questions. I have never told a soul.