At the heart of the work is the dialogue between mother and daughter, one that unfolds through their photographs and writing. What begins as a shared creative act gradually becomes more complicated as the mother, who was once behind the camera, falls deeper and deeper into addiction. The images bear the weight of absence, tension, and the grief of watching someone disappear: someone you can see but cannot hold. They also show how a camera can be a tool for survival. Through a child’s eyes some of these photographs lay bare a fragile dance between love and loss, tracing the shadow of addiction across the face of the mother and revealing the enduring light of childhood. In her work Bredahl re-imagines suffering with compassion. The dialogue continues, fragmented but persistent, held together by acts of looking, remembering, and forgiveness. These are not just photographs: they are emotional spaces layered with memory, longing, and survival. The book explores how places once marked by instability, addiction, and silence can be reclaimed through tenderness and the act of looking. Domestic interiors, female bodies, and familial ties unfold with unapologetic honesty. Bredahl’s photographs and writings are shaped by lived experience, by the blurred lines between love and harm, exposure and protection. Rooms We Made Safe is not a conclusion but a continuation: of a mother’s gaze, a daughter’s gaze, and a legacy held in light. This legacy also informs Bredahl’s current work – with subjects of siblings in a room, pole-dancers in their homes, friends in their bedrooms – which all testify to the power of the female bond and strength, all rendered in a unique photographic style, celebrating the expression of the analogue medium.