Chapter 13
The trial took months to begin.
During that time, I lived with Dad.
Mom lived elsewhere.
That was my condition.
She could visit only with supervision, only after therapy began, only if she gave full cooperation.
She accepted.
Not happily.
But honestly.
Maybe guilt finally taught her obedience to truth instead of fear.
Caleb grew.
He smiled at six weeks.
He laughed at four months.
He learned to grab Dad’s beard and refuse to let go.
Dad melted every time.
“You’re spoiling him,” I said.
“He deserves reparations.”
“He is a baby.”
“Exactly.”
Sometimes we laughed.
Sometimes I cried in the shower where Caleb could not hear.
Sometimes I looked at him and grief hit me so hard I had to sit down.
Then he would curl his hand around my finger.
And love would win again.
A detective asked if I wanted to avoid details of the reproductive assault investigation.
“No,” I said.
I needed to know.
Vale had given Ryan medication that made conception impossible.
Then he gave me injections disguised as hormonal support after a fake “wellness consultation” Diane arranged.
There was evidence he had done similar things before.
Other women came forward.
Some had been patients.
Some had been daughters of patients.
Vale had been hiding crimes behind white coats for decades.
My case opened the door.
I thought of my mother at nineteen.
I thought of myself at thirty.
May you like
Then I thought of Caleb.
The cycle ended with me.
