The nurse took thirty-two close-up photographs of my face, my neck, and the bruises forming on my shoulders.

Detective Harper walked in shortly after, holding a black leather notebook and a digital recorder.

“Sadie, I’m Detective Harper,” she said, her voice calm and steady. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m alive,” I said, keeping my head perfectly still as the nurse finally began to clean my wounds. “Are my parents in custody?”

“Both of your parents are being booked at the county jail right now,” Harper said. “And your sister Melanie is being brought in for questioning as well.”

Harper pulled up a metal chair and sat down, opening her notebook.

“We already have six of your neighbors at the precinct giving statements,” she added.

“Six?” I asked, looking at Wyatt.

“Yes,” Harper nodded. “The family across the street saw your father chase you onto the lawn.”

“And the mail carrier was down the block,” Wyatt added. “He saw your mother hand your father the brick.”

“They are all signing affidavits,” Harper confirmed. “The physical evidence and the eye-witness accounts are overwhelming.”