Chương 2
My stomach dropped.
“No.”
She stopped.
“I can’t have them take me away.”
“Emily.”
“My mom will be alone with her.”
The doctor’s expression softened.
That was the first time anyone had looked at me like they understood the problem was bigger than my injuries.
“You’re worried about what happens after people find out.”
I looked at the floor.
Because saying yes felt like admitting something I had spent years hiding.
A few minutes later, my parents came back.
Dad immediately walked toward me.
“What did you tell her?”
The question was quiet.
That made it worse.
I pulled the blanket higher.
“Nothing.”
He stared at me.
My father was good at making silence feel like punishment.
Mom touched his arm.
“Mark.”
He ignored her.
“You need to understand something, Emily.”
I waited.
“You don’t know what you’re doing.”
The words hurt more than I expected.
Not because I believed them.
Because some part of me still wanted him to be the person who protected me.
“I’m hurt,” I said.
Dad’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
Not guilt.
Fear.
Then Dr. Grant returned.
She was no longer alone.
A woman in a gray jacket stood beside her holding a folder.
Behind her was another woman with a badge clipped to her belt.
“This is Angela Moore with Child Protective Services,” Dr. Grant said.
Dad’s face went pale.
“This is ridiculous.”
Angela looked at him calmly.
“I’m here to ask some questions.”
“You don’t need to.”
Detective Claire Nolan stepped forward.
“Sir.”
Dad turned.
“I didn’t call anyone.”
“No,” Detective Nolan said.
“You didn’t.”
The room became still.
For the first time, my father looked like someone who did not know what would happen next.
Angela pulled a chair beside my bed.
“Emily, I’m going to ask you some things.”
I nodded.
She opened her folder.
But before she asked the first question, she looked toward the curtain where my family stood.
Then she looked back at me.
“Are you afraid to answer because of what they might do when you leave here?”
My eyes filled before I could stop it.
I hated crying.
I hated how quickly people noticed.
I hated how my body kept revealing things I had spent years hiding.
“Yes,” I whispered.
Outside the room, nobody spoke.
And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I was the only person carrying the truth.
The next few minutes moved strangely, as if everyone in the room was waiting for someone else to decide what kind of moment this was.
Angela did not rush me.
She did not look at me with pity.
She simply waited with a pen resting against the folder in her lap.
That made it easier to speak.
Not easy.
Just possible.
“I have a brother,” I said.
Angela looked up.
I blinked.
I had no idea why I said that.
Maybe because once I started telling the truth, my brain kept pulling out pieces I had buried.
“His name is Caleb.”
“Where is Caleb now?”
“He’s at college.”
Angela nodded and wrote something down.
“Does Caleb know about what happens at home?”
I looked toward the curtain.
My father was still there.
I could feel him without seeing him.
“No.”
“Why not?”
I rubbed my thumb against the edge of the blanket.
“Because he would come back.”
Angela studied me.
“And that would be a problem?”
“It would make everything worse.”
The detective beside her shifted slightly.
“Why?”
I swallowed.
“Because Brittany listens to him.”
That surprised them.
It surprised me too.
For years, Brittany had treated me like an enemy.
But Caleb was different.
She would argue with him, but she respected him.
Maybe because he was older.
Maybe because he was the only person in the family who had ever told her no.
“Tell me about Brittany,” Angela said.
I almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because I didn’t know where to start.
How do you explain someone who could make you feel loved and terrified in the same week?
“She’s not always like this.”
Angela waited.
“She can be nice.”
The words sounded weak as soon as they left my mouth.
But they were true.
That was the part nobody understood.
People always wanted someone to fit into one category.
Good person.
Bad person.
Victim.
Monster.
Brittany never stayed in one place long enough.
“She makes breakfast sometimes,” I said.
My voice lowered.
“She knows exactly how I like my eggs.”
Angela’s expression softened.
“But?”
I stared at my hands.
“But she also knows exactly what to say when she wants to hurt me.”
Nobody spoke.
The silence felt heavier than before.
“Can you give me an example?”
I looked toward the floor.
“She says I’m the reason everyone is tired.”
My mother made a small sound from behind the curtain.
Almost like she was going to object.
Then she stopped.
“She says I act innocent because everyone protects me.”
Angela looked at me.
“Do you believe that?”
I thought about it.
That was the worst part.
Sometimes I did.
Not completely.
But enough.
“I don’t know.”
Angela closed the folder halfway.
“Emily, I need you to understand something.”
I looked at her.
“Being hurt by someone does not become less serious because they also have good moments.”
The words stayed with me.
Not because they fixed anything.
They didn’t.
But because nobody had ever said them before.
The nurse returned after a few minutes to tell Dr. Grant she needed to review my discharge options.
The word discharge scared me.
I had been thinking only about leaving the hospital.
Not where I was going after.
Angela must have noticed.
“Emily,” she said quietly, “you are not going back home tonight without a safety plan.”
Dad immediately spoke from the other side of the curtain.
“She is coming home with us.”
Detective Nolan turned.
“That decision is not yours alone right now.”
Dad stepped into view.
May you like
His face had changed.
The confidence was gone.
