Chapter 5
I left the hospital two days later.
Dad brought me to his house.
A small, cozy place on the edge of town.
The same house I'd grown up in.
He'd already set up the guest room for me.
Everything I needed was there.
Pillows propped up to elevate my leg.
A little table beside the bed with my phone charger, a glass of water, and a stack of books.
"Home sweet home," Dad said, helping me onto the bed.
I looked around the room.
The walls were still the same pale blue I'd painted when I was sixteen.
The posters I'd hung up were gone, but the faint marks from the tape were still there.
It felt safe.
Like wrapping myself in a warm blanket.
"Thank you," I said.
Dad sat down beside me.
"No thanks needed. You're my daughter. This is where you belong."
Over the next few days, we settled into a routine.
Dad worked from home as much as he could.
When he had to go into the office, he arranged for a neighbor to come check on me.
He brought me meals.
Helped me shower.
Changed the ice pack on my leg.
He never complained.
Never made me feel like a burden.
It was the opposite of how I'd lived for the past five years.
With Ryan and Diane, I'd always felt like I was walking on eggshells.
Like I had to earn my place in the family.
Like nothing I did was ever good enough.
With Dad, I just was.
And it was enough.
The lawyer Dad had hired came to see me.
Her name was Margaret.
She was in her fifties, with sharp eyes and a no-nonsense attitude.
She listened while I told her everything.
From the first time Diane had visited after the wedding and criticized my decorating.
To the little comments about my cooking, my cleaning, my job.
To the way she'd try to turn Ryan against me whenever we fought.
To that night in the kitchen.
Margaret took notes.
She asked questions.
And when I was done, she leaned forward.
"Emily, this is a strong case," she said. "We have the police report, the medical records, your father's testimony. And if Ryan testifies as well... Diane doesn't stand a chance."
"What about Ryan?" I asked. "Is he in any trouble?"
Margaret hesitated.
"Legally? No. He didn't touch you. He didn't encourage his mother. But morally? He's got a lot to answer for. And if you decide to file for divorce, his behavior that night will definitely be a factor in the settlement."
I nodded.
Divorce.
The word still felt strange.
Scary.
But also...
Liberating.
"I'm not ready to make that decision yet," I said.
"That's fine," Margaret said. "We'll focus on the criminal case first. The divorce can wait. But I want you to know your options. Whatever you decide, I'm with you."
She left.
I sat there in the quiet house, thinking.
My phone buzzed.
A text from Ryan.
I've been thinking about Sarah. I want to find her. I need to apologize to her face to face. And I think she might be able to help with the case.
I stared at the message.
Finding Sarah.
It was a good idea.
Her testimony would be powerful.
Proof that Diane had done this before.
That it wasn't an accident.
That it was a pattern.
But I also knew what it would cost Ryan.
To face the woman he'd betrayed so many years ago.
To hear the truth about his mother from someone else's lips.
I typed back.
Be careful.
He replied almost immediately.
I will. For you.
I put the phone down.
A week later, Dad and I were sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast when there was a knock on the door.
Dad stood up.
"Stay here," he said.
He walked to the door and opened it.
I couldn't see who was there.
But I heard a woman's voice.
"Hi. I'm looking for Emily. My name is Sarah."
My heart stopped.
Dad stepped aside.
A woman walked in.
She was about my height, with brown hair and green eyes.
She looked nervous.
She was holding a piece of paper in her hand.
Her eyes found mine.
"Hi," she said again.
"Hi," I said.
She walked toward the table.
Dad stood by the door, watching her carefully.
"Ryan found me," she said, sitting down across from me. "He showed up at my apartment in Portland three days ago. Told me what happened. Told me about your leg."
She paused.
"I'm so sorry," she said. "I know what you went through. I know exactly what it's like. To love a man who can't protect you. To be afraid in your own home."
Her voice shook.
"When Ryan showed up at my door, I almost didn't let him in. I thought about calling the police. But then he started talking. And I could see it in his eyes. He finally gets it. He finally understands what his mother did to both of us."
She reached into her bag and pulled out a stack of papers.
She slid them across the table to me.
"I kept everything," she said. "Medical records from when she pushed me down the stairs. Text messages from her. Emails. Even a voice recording she left on my phone once, threatening me if I didn't leave Ryan alone. I thought I'd need it someday. That she'd come after me again. Or that she'd do it to someone else."
I looked at the papers.
Medical bills.
Police reports that had been filed and then dropped.
Printouts of text messages.
All of it.
Proof.
"Why are you giving this to me?" I asked.
Sarah looked me in the eye.
"Because Diane needs to be stopped. And because I want to testify. I want to stand up in court and tell everyone what she did. What she's capable of. No one should have to go through what we went through. Not ever again."
Tears filled my eyes.
For the first time since that night in the kitchen, I didn't feel alone.
I had my father.
I had Margaret.
And now I had Sarah.
A woman who understood exactly what I'd been through.
Because she'd been there too.
"Thank you," I said.
My voice cracked.
Sarah reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
May you like
"We've got this," she said.
And for the first time in a long time, I actually believed it.
