Mrs. Sutter, this is Deputy Collins. Your son is creating a disturbance at the property. He is demanding to speak with you. We may need your statement regarding last night.
I stared at the message until the letters blurred.
Last night. The slaps. The blood. Kristen’s smile.
I walked to the bathroom mirror. The swelling had darkened under my eye. My lip had split again. A red line marked my cheek where Trevor’s ring had cut me. For the first time since it happened, I let myself feel it. Not the pain. The grief. My own son had raised his hand against me thirty times, and I had counted because counting was easier than crying.
I called Deputy Collins. He answered on the second ring. “Mrs. Sutter?”
“Yes.”
“Ma’am, I need to ask plainly. Were you assaulted by Trevor Sutter last night?”
Part 3 (continued)
“Yes,” I said. “He hit me thirty times. I counted.”
