Chapter 6 - A Different Kind of Weapon
Mom posted before security escorted her downstairs.
Please pray for our granddaughter after a tragic accident during a difficult family visit.
She added that emotions were high and false accusations could destroy innocent lives.
Then she tagged me.
By dinner, strangers were telling me to stop using my daughter as a weapon.
Jo reached for the phone.
“Give it to me for ten minutes.”
“I need to answer.”
“You need a record. Those are different things.”
She saved screenshots, including the comments Mom had answered with little praying hands.
Then she handed the phone back.
I wrote one sentence.
Ruby is receiving treatment after an assault, and I will not discuss her medical information online.
I removed the tag and tightened my account settings.
It felt small.
It was still the first public thing I had ever said that my mother could not edit.
The next morning, an unfamiliar woman called.
“My name is Alina Brooks. I used to work with your sister.”
I nearly hung up.
“I’m not looking for gossip,” I said.
“Neither am I.”
Her voice shook.
“Three years ago, she threw a stapler at me when I changed a meeting time. Your father paid the urgent care bill. Your mother called me every day until I agreed to stop talking about it.”
I closed my eyes.
There was always another room.
Another person.
Another mess my parents had quietly swept away.
“I have emails,” Alina said.
“I don’t know if they matter.”
“I can give you the detective’s number.”
“Will she believe me?”
I looked through the glass at Ruby sleeping beside her rabbit.
“She’ll listen.”
Vega called later to confirm that Alina had contacted her.
Then she asked whether I had somewhere safe to stay after discharge.
“Our apartment. Five hours from here.”
“Who has a key?”
Jo did.
My landlord did.
And my mother had a spare I had forgotten giving her after Ruby was born.
I called the landlord from the hallway.
He agreed to change the lock before we returned.
When I hung up, Jo was standing beside me.
“What?” I asked.
She turned her phone toward me.
My father had left a message on her doorbell camera.
May you like
He was outside my apartment.
And he was trying the old key.
