Page 19 of I'm Watching You

Lindsay dug a Sanctuary business card out of her purse and handed it to Gail. ‘My name is Lindsay O’Neil. I’m the director of a women’s shelter.’

Gail snatched the card, studied it. ‘Sanctuary. A haven for battered women.’ She tossed the card on the floor. ‘I don’t need this.’

Lindsay picked it up and laid it beside Gail. ‘That’s right. We shelter women who’ve been abused. The number on the card is the hotline.’ She pulled out a pen and wrote her cell number on the back. ‘You can always reach me at this other number, day or night.’

Gail slid off the exam table, wincing when her feet hit the ground. ‘I’m not abused. I told that stupid doctor that I fell down the stairs. What’s the big deal?’

‘He was concerned.’

Her lips flattened as if she were barely holding on to her control. ‘Well, I’m fine.’

Lindsay remained by the curtain so Gail wouldn’t feel crowded. If she didn’t tread carefully, the woman would bolt. ‘There are old bruises on your neck and they look like they were made by fingers.’

Color flooded Gail’s face. ‘I hit my neck on the banister as I fell down the stairs.’

‘Why the long sleeves and pants in July?’

‘I’m cold natured.’

Lindsay’s voice remained soft and calm, but sadness and anger welled inside her. ‘Gail, I think you’ve been bullied enough already. So I’m not going to debate the issue with you. Experience has taught me that victims can be excellent liars.’

Gail bristled. ‘I’m not a liar. My husband is a good man. He loves me. He works hard and would never hurt me on purpose.’

‘But he did hurt you,’ Lindsay said quietly.

Gail crushed the card in her hand. ‘I didn’t say that!’

‘Honey, the bruises did.’

Tears welled in Gail’s eyes, and for a moment Lindsay thought she would open up. She looked so small, so beaten down by life. Instead, the woman straightened her shoulders and grabbed her purse off the exam table. ‘I don’t have to listen to this.’

Lindsay pressed her card deeper into Gail’s hand. ‘No, you don’t. Just know you can reach me twenty-four/seven.’

A tear rolled down Gail’s face and she angrily brushed it away. She moved toward the curtain and shoved it open. ‘I won’t be calling.’

‘I hope you do.’ She laid her hand on Gail’s shoulder. ‘If things do get bad, remember to run to a room with soft furniture. Stay away from the kitchen and the bathrooms. They can be dangerous.’

Gail hesitated, then left the room.

Lindsay listened to Gail’s footsteps meld into the confusion of the hospital. For a moment her knees felt weak and she had to sit in the metal chair by the exam table. How many times had her mother made excuses for the bruises that had marked her body? How many times had she forgiven her father and stayed when she should have fled?

Like Gail’s, her mother’s lies were rooted in fear, shame, and the desperate hope that the abuse would really stop. But it never did.

What Lindsay hadn’t understood was why everyone had accepted her mother’s lies over and over again. No one had stepped in and no one had cared. And her mother had paid with her own life.

Jennifer appeared, her expression grim and angry. ‘Room number six looked pissed when she stormed past.’

Lindsay straightened her shoulders, clinging to the hope that kept her going. ‘Yeah, but she kept my card. I see that as a hopeful good sign.’

Jennifer frowned. ‘Is she going home?’

‘That would be my guess. It’s human nature to return to places we know best.’

‘But she’s not safe there!’

Lindsay clung to the bright side. ‘I have to have faith that she’ll survive until she finds the courage to call me or someone else for help.’

‘Damn it! That just doesn’t seem good enough. Isn’t there anything we can do?’

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