“So basically, I’m screwed?”
“I wouldn’t say that—”
Alayah stood, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna do this. I don’t want to relive this nightmare over and over again. I already have to deal with dreaming about this shit. I don’t want to go through that hell again, Erica. I appreciate what you’re trying to do. I know you think I deserve justice—and I do—but I’ve already lost ten years of my life. If there is a chance I can live peacefully, I want that…Ineedthat. Please drop this. I got out, and I’m home. Just let me try to have a little slice of normalcy.”
Without another word, she left the room. A few seconds later, I heard a door slam. We all sat looking at one another, still digesting what we’d just learned. Erica packed up the papers and placed them back in her bag.
“I won’t push her,” she said softly, “but I’m gonna continue to work on this. There are too many Rodneys in the world and not enough Alayahs brave enough to fight back. Her story deserves to be told correctly.”
The Eastons nodded.
“Give her some time,” Mrs. Easton said. “This…This is a lot. She’s only been home a few weeks. She’s still hurting, and she misses her sisters terribly. My niece isn’t in the best headspace right now. Just please…give her a little time.”
Erica sighed and nodded as she stood. “I hear you. We’re gonna get going.”
I stood and extended my hand. “It was nice to finally meet you both. Alayah used to talk about you all the time. I’m glad she has you to come home to.”
Mr. Easton offered a warm smile. “Me, too. I’ll walk y’all out.”
He stood and led us to the front door. He stood on the front porch as we made our way back to the car. As I was climbing in, I felt eyes watching me. I looked up to see Alayah staring out of what I assumed was her bedroom window with her arms crossed. Our gazes met briefly before she pulled down the shades, disappearing from my view. I found myself sighing heavily.
“Don’t worry,” Erica said, breaking my gaze. “We’re going to win this for her.”
I nodded. I sure as hell hoped so.
Chapter 11
Alayah
I’d been in an emotional slump for days now.
First, I was dealing with Mrs. West posting my picture on social media and dragging me for filth. She and her family called me everything but a child of God, and my mama was right in the comments with her. The only reason I knew about it was because Kennedy had the nerve to tag my aunt, shaming her for allowing me to live her.
I overheard my aunt and uncle talking about it before I walked into the room. They tried to keep it on the hush-hush, but it was too late. Seeing my picture and my name being sullied left a sour taste in my mouth. My feelings were hurt, and the whole thing pissed me off. I had my aunt print out the post and the comments in case I needed it at a later date.
Then there was the news from my lawyer.
After Erica and Killian’s visit, I went into my room and cried my eyes out for what felt like hours. I’d pushed the memory of that miscarriage to the back of my mind for the longest. I wasn’t sure what made me tell her that in the first place. We were just talking about my history one visit, and it just spilled out like word vomit. I didn’t think it would do much to help my case anyway, and I’d almost forgotten that I told her about it.
That was until she brought it up. Now it was all I could think about. That night was so traumatizing. After being in the hospital all those hours, Rodney took me back home. The drive was so awkward. He kept looking at me like he knew he’d fucked up. When we pulled into the driveway, he shut off the car and turned to me.
“You know not sayanything about this,” he said calmly.
I nodded, avoiding hisgaze.
“Good. I’ll get this prescription filled.” He reachedout cupped my chin, forcing my eyes to meet his. “We’ll be careful next time.”
My heart sank.
Nexttime.
That let me know that his sick, twisted ass had no plans to stop doing what he was doing to me. He didn’t feel like he was wrong at all, and he had no remorse about it. I walked into that house in pain and defeat. After stripping my bed and cleaning the mattress, I put on new sheets and climbed in.
I didn’t sleep. Instead, I lay in the darkness until sunrise, praying for death to just take me from the nightmare.
My mother came home yelling about the wet sheets in the washer. I had to lie and say I got my period during the night. She didn’t care either way. She called me stupid for not knowing when my period was coming on at seventeen. I just had to take it because what else was I supposed to say?
The past few days had been tough on my mental. I could feel myself slipping into a depressive state. Uncle Clive let me take a few days to get my mental together, but being cooped up in the house was only making it worse. He and Aunt Penny had been trying so hard to give me space but also to make sure I was still okay.
