“Don’t tell me anymore,” I whisper. “I can’t hear what he did.” Instantly I’m hurtled back to memories of the last beating he gave me, the way he kept hitting my head against the fridge. I lift my hand and touch the spot I had stitches on my head. “I feel sick,” I say as I stand and run for the bathroom.
“Lily,” Peter calls after me. But I keep shaking my head as I run to the bathroom, open the toilet stall and vomit into the toilet. I vomit again, and again. And when there’s nothing left in my stomach, I sit on the floor, curled into myself and cry.
“Lily,” Jones says softly as she comes into the bathroom.
“Go away; give me a few moments,” I manage to say as I sob.
“I just want to tell you a story. Is it okay if I do that?”
Through the tears I mumble, “Yes.”
“I want to tell you about a girl I know who in high school fell in love with the school’s sports star. He was popular and good looking and all the girls wanted to be with him and, as the saying goes, all the boys wanted to be him. But he had his eyes set on the geeky girl, and they ended up together.”
“This is a nice story,” I say through the door as I pick myself up and sit on the lid of the toilet.
“It was, until he decided he wanted her to do something and she didn’t want to.”
“What did he want her to do?”
“He wanted her to sell her body, and pimp herself out because he thought she’d make him a lot of money.”
“Oh my God,” I say as I come out of the stall and go wash my face and hands. “What happened to her?”
“She started doing it, because she thought he’d love her more. But then she wasn’t making enough money for him, and he started beating her to make her work harder.”
“Oh my God,” I say as I look up from the running tap to her.
“But after a couple of years of him bullying her around, and beating her, she finally realized what he was doing was the furthest thing from love there was.”
“Did you save her?” I ask as I wipe my hands and then lean against the wall in the bathroom.
“No, Lily I didn’t save her. She saved herself. She made a conscious decision to change her life, accept her past, and move on with her future. She also finally grasped how strong she was as a woman and had that miserable son-of-a-bitch arrested. She went to court for his trial, stood with her shoulders straight and her head held high, and she gave the court her testimony.”
“Wow.” I look down at her shoes avoiding her eyes then look back up at her. “Whatever happened to her?”
“Why aren’t you asking what happened to him?”
“Because I have faith he was dealt with by the court.”
Her mouth twists up in half a smile and she says, “You’re looking at her.”
My arms break out in goosebumps and I get ambushed by admiration for her. “Wow.”
“You can do this, Lily. If there’s anything you can tell me to help me put him behind bars, please I need you to be brave.”
I open the door and walk back to the room where everyone is waiting for me and Jones to return. “I have something I can say, but I have something which may be even better.”
“What’s that?” Jones asks.
“I have the diary I was writing. But it’s at my best friend’s house and I need to go find it.”
“A diary? As in a journal?” I nod my head. “Does it have details?”
“I can give you some details,” Dale interrupts. “Lily showed up here freezing cold, with blue lips because she’d left him with nothing more than the clothes on her back. I wrote it down, kept a note of what happened in case there were repercussions.”
“You did?” I ask Dale.
“Yes, I’m sorry, Lily. I didn’t mean to deceive you, but I kept a record of it.”
“You were protecting me. I’m not mad.”
“I’ll go get it.” Dale darts out of the office and comes back a few moments later with an envelope. “I’ve kept a copy for myself, but here’s the original.”
“Thank you. Lily, when can you get your diary?”
“I can go after work tonight and get it.”
We make arrangements for me to go tomorrow morning down to the police station and give them my journal. They also tell me if I need to give evidence, they’ll speak to the DA and ask if I can do it via videotape, so I don’t have to face Trent.
When they leave, I sit, emotionless, in Peter’s office. “Are you okay?” he asks.
I shake my head, then nod. “I don’t know. I feel numb.”