Chapter 6
Hospital… yes.
Relieved, I let my eyes close again.
When I next awakened, everything around me was pristine white. Even the antiseptic smell became wonderfully comforting, and most importantly, the pain in my body had also diminished significantly–I was saved!
‘How could you let your child get this sick? What kind of mother are you?”
‘She’s practically an adult, and you locked her up without even a phone. What if something serious had happened?”
turned toward the voices. A police officer in uniform stood at the doorway with a grave expression.
Facing him was Darlene, wearing a pained expression as she launched into a theatrical display of woe.
‘Officer, you don’t understand how much I’ve suffered! We’re struggling financially, and I have high blood pressure. I work myself to the bone trying to keep this family afloat. Then there’s my daughter–nothing but trouble. just wanted her to work part–time before college to help our family out a little. Instead of doing her job properly, he girl goes and gets herself knocked up at such a young age! What choice did I have but to keep her home?”
As she continued piling one filthy accusation after another on me, tears immediately sprang to my eyes. I cried pitifully, forcing myself to sit up despite my weakness to defend myself:
‘Officer, I was working fourteen–hour shifts. Every day was nothing but work and sleep, and I’ve always been a good girl.” Then I turned to my mother, “Mom, why wouldn’t you listen to me? I’m not pregnant.”
Seeing that I was awake, a nurse quickly came over to check on me with gentle care.
Her expression had also darkened considerably.
‘Officer, I need to inform you of something important. When this young woman was brought in, she was covered in njuries–head to toe, countless bruises, with petechiae on her face showing clear signs of subcutaneous bleeding.”
As the nurse finished speaking, the officer’s expression grew even more severe, his tone becoming ice–cold.
‘Mrs. Dawson, your daughter is still a minor. Domestic abuse against a minor is prosecutable as intentional assault. According to California Penal Code Section 273, you could face between three and ten years in prison.”
As soon as he finished speaking, onlookers who had gathered at the doorway began buzzing with commentary, pointing accusingly at Darlene.
Just then, a figure pushed through the crowd–my father, Raymond, arriving late. The moment he stepped in, he was met with the officer’s harsh rebuke and scrutinizing stares from the crowd. Visibly uncomfortable with the public humiliation, he turned to Darlene with a scowl and hissed through gritted teeth:
“I leave for a minute, and you’re at home torturing our daughter? How the hell did I end up with such a venomous
witch for a wife!”
“Are you brain–dead? She’s working fourteen–hour shifts–when would she even have time for a boyfriend? Can you go one damn day without creating problems?”
Hearing this, I lowered my eyes. So my father had always known Darlene was deliberately giving me a hard time. He just chose to turn a blind eye as long as it didn’t affect his own interests.
Watching Darlene being scolded into hanging her head, my father let out a cold snort, then turned to the officer with a fawning smile, repeatedly assuring him: “Officer, you have my word–I won’t let anyone abuse or harm my daughter ever again!”
Perhaps seeing his seemingly genuine contrition, the officer gave him a brief lecture before turning to me with a gentle tone:
“Don’t worry, young lady. Just focus on getting better. I’ll check in on you regularly.”
Then, before leaving, he instructed the nurse in front of everyone: “Report any unusual circumstances to the police immediately.”
Hearing this, my parents‘ faces cycled between ashen and flushed.
When the officer had gone, my father gritted his teeth, glaring hostilely at Darlene.
“You’ve been a housekeeper for years–you know how to take care of people. After you finish at your employer’s house, I expect you to make nutritious soups and come to the hospital to look after our daughter.”
At the mention of having to care for me, Darlene’s eyes reddened with self–pity. Before she could protest, Raymond shot her such a harsh glare that she reluctantly fell silent.
Honestly, I wasn’t counting on Darlene to take care of me. The hospital meals would certainly be bland but nutritious–far better than anything she’d make.
Yet the next day, she showed up at the hospital carrying a thermos container.
