I laughed softly, the sound broken and humourless.“I don’t even know what ready would feel like.”
She leaned in and rested her forehead on my shoulder, her voice muffled.“You don’t have to do any of this alone.We’ll handle it.I promise.”
I nodded because it was easier than speaking, even if the promise slid right through me.
Somewhere deep inside, where it was quiet and still, I thought about last night, about Andrew’s words, his grip, the way the air had been ripped from my lungs.The memories kept flashing like a slideshow I couldn’t stop.My brain kept trying to reorder them, make them make sense, but it couldn’t.
I closed my eyes and focused on Clara’s breathing beside me, grounding myself in the sound, in the rhythm.It tethered me for a moment, held me steady when everything else felt like quicksand.
I felt her shift closer, pulling me into her."When you are ready to talk about what happened, I am here.I will always be here for you, ok."
But as I lay there, safe in my parents’ house, wrapped in my sister’s arms, one thought circled endlessly:
I wasn’t safe yesterday.
I wasn't ok.
And I didn't know how to get past this feeling.
I must have fallen asleep again, because when I opened my eyes, the light was warmer.My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn't eaten yesterday.But I didn't feel hungry; I felt numb.
I dressed in silence, moving on autopilot, pulling on an oversized hoodie and soft joggers.I didn’t want to look at myself, didn’t want to see… but when I reached for my socks, the hem of my hoodie rode up, and there they were.
Bruises already blooming along my hip where Andrew’s grip had been, angry fingerprints forming along my wrist, my jaw...
I closed my eyes and tried to choke down the tears that were threatening to spill.
Voices rose faintly from downstairs, sharp edges cutting through the otherwise quiet house.At first, I thought it was my dad and Chase arguing, but as I moved closer, footsteps light and unsteady, I caught a deeper voice.Stricter.Colder.
Two police officers stood in the living room.One was young, notebook in hand, eyes scanning everything like he was memorizing it.The other… older, broad-shouldered, his uniform worn in, the kind of man who’d lived in this town too long.
“…no need to fight,” the older officer said, holding up a hand when my dad’s voice sharpened.“Here she is.”
His gaze landed on me, sweeping over my frame in a way that wasn’t unkind, but still made something twist in my gut.
I heard a gasp from my mom, and instinctively, I pulled the collar of my hoodie up to my chin, trying to cover the bruise.
“We came to follow up, Ms.Morgan,” he said evenly.“Just a few questions.”
I hesitated, glancing at my family, all tense shoulders and white-knuckled fists, before lowering myself onto the edge of the couch.Clara slid in beside me, her knee pressed against mine.
“You should have your lawyer present,” my dad said flatly, already reaching for his phone.
The officer exhaled through his nose, ignoring him.“Mr.Brooks was released this morning into his family’s custody.His wife and her parents came to pick him up.”His eyes flicked back to me, and something in them hardened.“They had… a few things to say.”
My stomach dropped, but before I could answer, Chase beat me to it.“What things?”
He folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe like he was settling in for a lecture.“They claim you’ve been causing problems for months.That you seduced Mr.Brooks.That you pressured him into leaving his family and filing for divorce.That's when he told you he wasn’t leaving his wife after all; you threatened to ruin his life if he didn’t stay with you.That these charges…” he gestured vaguely toward me, “…are being fabricated to punish him.”
A sound broke from Clara, hard and furious.“That is bullshit, and you know it!”
The officer’s face didn’t change.“Victoria Brooks is well-known in this community.I’ve known her family my whole life.She’s worried about the stress this is putting on her, especially being pregnant...”
“Don’t you dare,” my dad cut in, his voice like a whip.“Don’t you dare stand there and imply my daughter is to blame for what happened last night or responsible for Victoria or her pregnancy.”
“Sir...”
“No,” he barked, stepping forward.“Andrew Brooks has been harassing Cassidy for months.He’s shown up at her apartment.He’s called her from multiple numbers.She’s had to change her locks and her phone number.He cornered her at the pub; there are witnesses, for God’s sake.And last night, there were witnesses to that too, the men who had to step in and pull Mr Brooks off my daughter.Not to mention, there are marks on her body.We have photographs.The tear in her shirt, how....how she was found..."His voice cracked, but he didn't stop."Do not stand here and tell me my daughter made this up.”
