Chapter 3 - THE ESCAPE
The next hour was a blur of efficiency. My father’s men—Sergeant Miller, Corporal Davis, and Lieutenant Holt—handled the logistics with the same precision they would use to extract a high-value asset from a combat zone.
As Ryan and Linda were escorted into the hallway, I heard Linda’s shrill protests fading into the distance. She was trying to spin one last lie, claiming I had caused my own injuries, but her voice was quickly silenced by Sergeant Miller’s stern command to remain quiet.
I sat on the bed, feeling the weight of the last seven months finally lifting. My father walked over, his movements deliberate. He knelt beside the bed, his uniform crisp and intimidating, yet his hand, when it touched my forehead, was incredibly gentle.
"I’m sorry, Emily," he whispered. "I let them isolate you. I let them make me think I was the one intruding."
"They were good at it, Dad," I said, my voice trembling. "They told me no one would believe me because they were 'upstanding' members of the community and I was just the emotional, hormonal pregnant wife."
"Well," he said, his eyes darkening as he glanced at the bruises on my arms, "they made the mistake of thinking you were alone. A mistake they are currently paying for."
May you like
He helped me sit up. My body ached, and every movement was a reminder of the agony I had endured. He wrapped a military-grade field jacket around my shoulders, the smell of cedar and polished brass offering a strange, grounding comfort.
"We’re going to the medical facility at the base," he announced. "My doctors. Not the ones who signed off on your 'falls.' We’re going to document every single injury, and then, we are going to ensure that Ryan and his mother never touch another human being as long as they live."
