Chapter 4 - The Sound of the Fall
The cold metallic click of the handcuffs echoing in the kitchen was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard. Ethan thrashed against the counter, his cheek pressed into the spilled coffee.
"Battery? You have no proof! She fell! She's crazy!" Ethan yelled, spittle flying from his lips.
I walked over to the kitchen sink, reached underneath, and pulled out the small digital recorder. I pressed play, turning the volume all the way up.
Ethan’s own arrogant, slurred voice filled the room.
“Look at me when I’m talking to you, Emily... Tomorrow morning, I want a real breakfast waiting for me. No attitude. No cold looks.”
Then came the unmistakable, sickening CRACK of a hand striking flesh. My gasp on the recording.
And then, Beverly’s voice: “A wife has to be disciplined early. Ethan’s father understood that.”
Beverly gasped, covering her mouth as the recording laid bare the ugly truth of her complicity.
"We have three years of audio, Mr. Walker," Detective Miller said, yanking Ethan up by his bound arms. "You're looking at felony charges."
"Mom!" Ethan screamed, his composure entirely shattered. He looked like a terrified child. "Mom, call my lawyer! Call Davis!"
"Mr. Davis cannot help you," Sophia chimed in smoothly. "Your accounts are frozen. A high-powered defense attorney requires a six-figure retainer. You currently have exactly thirty-four dollars in your personal checking account. I suggest you request a public defender when you reach the precinct."
Beverly was hyperventilating, clutching the marble counter to keep from collapsing. She looked at me, her eyes wide with a sudden, pathetic desperation. "Emily... Emily, please. We're family. You can't do this to him. You can't do this to me! Where am I supposed to go?"
I looked at the woman who had sat in this exact room the night before, sipping tea while her son beat me until I bled. I felt no pity. Only a profound, cleansing emptiness.
"You have fifteen minutes left to pack your bag, Beverly," I said, my voice devoid of any emotion. "If you are not out of my house by the time the timer goes off, my security team will escort you off the property with nothing but the silk robe you’re wearing."
As Detective Miller dragged Ethan toward the door, my husband looked back at me. There was no arrogance left. Only sheer terror. "Emily, please! I'm sorry! I love you!" he cried out, his designer shoes scuffing against the hardwood floor as he fought the officer.
"Enjoy the breakfast, Ethan," I said quietly.
The heavy front doors closed behind them. The silence that followed was absolute. For the first time in three years, I took a deep breath in my own home, and I wasn't afraid.
May you like
My father walked over and wrapped his arms around me. He smelled like expensive cologne and old leather. "It's over, sweetheart," he murmured.
"No, Dad," I replied, pulling back and looking him in the eye. "It’s just beginning."
