The Price of Silence and the Betrayal That Tore My Family Apart
“We do,” Sarah said. “But they will try to say Grace did that to herself.”
I looked down at my hands.
The skin around my wrists was still pink and raw.
“I will testify,” I said.
Leo turned around to look at me.
“Grace, you don’t have to put yourself through that,” he said.
“Yes, I do,” I said.
“I want them to look at me while I tell the judge what they did.”
Sarah nodded slowly, her expression grim.
“It won’t be easy,” Sarah said. “Their lawyer will be vicious.”
“I don’t care,” I said.
Three days later, we were discharged from the hospital.
Leo drove us to a small, furnished apartment on the north side of town.
It was far away from the tree-lined streets where Josephine lived.
The apartment smelled of fresh paint and carpet cleaner.
It was small, but it was safe.
Every night, Leo locked the deadbolt and placed a wooden chair under the handle.
Every night, I woke up sweating, thinking I heard Josephine’s footsteps in the hall.
The week of the preliminary hearing arrived with a sudden snowstorm.