Chapter 2 - Tell Them She Slipped
The first siren was so faint Brandon mistook it for traffic.
I heard it because I had been waiting for it.
A thin wail somewhere beyond the neighborhood.
Then another.
Closer.
Brandon’s hand tightened around my arm.
His eyes moved toward the kitchen window.
Blue light reflected across the parked cars outside.
He released me.
Margaret lowered her wine glass.
“What did you do?”
Before I could answer, Brandon grabbed my phone from the counter and hurled it against the wall.
The screen shattered.
“She called them.”
William finally looked away from the television.
His expression was not horror.
It was annoyance.
“Lock the front door,” Brandon ordered.
William rose slowly, still holding the remote.
“Tell them it was an accident.”
Brandon’s confidence returned the moment he heard a possible lie.
He kicked my broken phone beneath the cabinet.
Then he grabbed a towel and wiped the stove.
He lifted the ruined skillet, dumped its contents into the trash, and pushed the pan into the sink.
Margaret poured wine onto the tile beside me.
I stared at the spreading stain.
“She slipped,” Margaret said. “She was drunk.”
They began rehearsing.
William would say he was watching television and heard the pan fall.
Margaret would claim I had consumed several glasses of wine.
Brandon would say I reached across the stove carelessly and burned myself.
Three witnesses against one unstable wife.
That was how Brandon phrased it when he crouched beside me.
“You accuse me, and I’ll tell them you attacked my mother.”
I held my injured hand against my chest.
Behind him, Margaret nodded.
“She’s been irrational all evening.”
Brandon leaned closer.
“Who do you think they’ll believe?”
The sirens stopped outside.
Car doors slammed.
Heavy footsteps crossed the front path.
William reached the entryway but did not manage to turn the deadbolt.
The door burst inward.
Two officers entered fast, hands ready, scanning the room.
Brandon immediately stepped away from me.
“Thank God,” he said. “My wife had an accident.”
One officer moved toward him.
The second saw me on the floor and changed direction.
Brandon tried to follow.
The first officer seized him from behind as he lunged toward me.
“Let go of me! She needs help!”
“You’re staying right here.”
I stumbled from the kitchen into the living room.
A female relative who had arrived for dinner earlier but remained silent throughout the abuse dropped to her knees near the couch, one hand covering her mouth.
She had seen everything.
Her name was Rebecca.
Margaret’s niece.
Until that moment, I had assumed her silence meant agreement.
Now she looked at me as though she had awakened inside a nightmare.
Brandon strained against the officer.
“She’s drunk! Ask my parents.”
Margaret stepped forward.
“It was an accident. Claire has emotional problems.”
William remained beside the television, remote still in his hand.
The second officer knelt near me.
“Ma’am, can you tell me what happened?”
My voice barely worked.
I looked toward the kitchen.
Then back at him.
“Under the island.”
The officer followed my gaze.
May you like
Behind him, Brandon stopped struggling.
The color left his face.
