I am a fucking idiot.
I thought her uncle was just an asshole, and she sometimes stood in the line of fire when he did his drunken bullshit. Not that he was abusing her with intention.How could I have been so blind?I’m a cop. I’ve been trained to spot these things. I know the patterns, the behaviors, and the excuses abuse victims often give.
As I reflect on it, instances where she winced when I touched her stand out in my mind. The twitchy movements should have raised a red flag, but I dismissed them, thinking she was maybe sensitive.
The cut on her temple haunts my thoughts. I remember how she brushed it off as if it was nothing. I should have probed further. Demanded an explanation. Clay insisted something was up with that cut, and I explained it away as a hangover from the domestic violence case we’d seen that day.
Fuck.
The lump she had on her head flashes before my eyes. She said her uncle hit her while falling, flailing his arms. I should have investigated, asked more questions, and ensured she was safe.
I don’t know where to go with all that guilt, so I lash out. “You knew?” My voice cracks, the betrayal evident as I confront Xander.
“I recognized the signs, but yesterday I saw this…” Xander picks up Carolina’s wrist and turns it over to show me her forearm.
The wordPIGis brutally carved into her soft, beautiful skin. It hits me like a gut punch.
That bandage on her forearm. I grip strands of my hair, pulling on it. Not a burn after all. It was a sign of something darker, something more she was hiding from me. I can’t believe I missed it. It was there all along, and I did not push. I failed her, and the weight of that failure bears down on me like a ton of bricks.
Could have all of this been avoided if I had done something?
I can barely breathe.
But it seems I am not the only one who failed her.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” My voice rises, anger bubbling over, mostly directed at myself, but now Xander is the one who will have to grapple with my rage.
“You know how it is,” he shoots back, frustration evident. “If I had told anyone without her permission, she would’ve pushed us all away.”
“She needed help!” My voice echoes in the cold room. Before I can stop myself, I’m shouting even louder. “You should’ve done something, Xander! You should’ve protected her. You should have talked to me!”
“Boys, can we talk about this civilly?” Sophia pleads, her voice quivering with anxiety as she tries to bring us down, her eyes darting from me to Xander.
Xander’s face contorts with anger, and he yells back at me, “I was trying to protect her, not make it worse! Don’t you think I wanted to do something?”
“You should have told us, babe,” Clay speaks up, looking at Xander with a mix of sadness and anger, his eyes holding a glassy sheen.
“She needed to open up on her own terms. I told her I was there, talked to her, wanted to help, but she just walked away,” Xander says, and I hear a pinch of desperation in his voice.
Chiara sniffles beside me, but I can’t think about her right now. My blood is boiling.
I walk over to Xander. He is at least a head taller than me, but I am not thinking straight and get chest-to-chest with him, fists clenched. It feels like the room is vibrating with my anger.
Clay jumps between us, pushing my chest so I step back. “Hey, calm down. This doesn’t help anyone.”
“Listen to him, Joshy,” Sophia says, putting a soothing hand on my shoulder, but I shrug her off.
“You both should’ve done more! Especially you, Clay. What an awesome best friend you are,” I spit out, my frustration pouring out like a torrent.
Xander shoves me, and I stumble backward. “Don’t you dare put this all on him just because you need to lash out. You were there too, Josh. What an amazing boyfriend you are!”
“You’re not fair, Josh. I was there too, and the only thing I told her is that we would be there for her,” Sophia mumbles from behind me.
“That’s why I’m so fucking furious! Weallfailed her, and now look where she is!” My voice cracks, and I have to breathe in deeply to keep myself from tearing up.
“You guys done?” the doctor asks sternly from the doorway, lifting an eyebrow at us.
When did she even leave the room?
