Angela braced herself for the next steps, knowing this was going to be hard for everyone involved.
Angela: Okay, love, this part is going to be hard, but I believe in you.
Tamara looked up at Lucy, her eyes wide and scared, like she was searching for some way out.
Tamara: Do I really have to do this, Lucy?
Lucy: You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You need to give consent for every step. But if you ever want to catch the person who did this to you, then, yeah, you’ll have to.
Tamara swallowed hard and nodded, her face clouded with a mix of fear and resignation.
Tamara: Okay… I guess I’ll do it.
Angela: I’m going to give you a hospital gown. I need you to take off all your clothes, including your shoes.
Her hands trembled as she undressed. She paused for a moment before pulling on the gown, her eyes darting to the floor, avoiding Angela’s gaze.
Angela: Something’s missing, sweetheart.
Tamara: What?
Angela: Your underwear.
Tamara froze. Her whole body seemed to shrink inward, her lip trembling again as she tried not to cry.
Tamara: Do I have to give them to you? I really don’t want to take them off.
Lucy: It’s okay, Tam. You’ve already been so brave. No one’s going to judge you.
Slowly, painfully, Tamara slid her bloodstained underwear down and handed them to Angela, her hand shakeing.
Angela’s stomach turned, but she kept her face calm. She put the underwear in a paper bag, her heart breaking. She’s just a kid. How could someone do this to her? Angela thought, trying not to let her emotions show.
Angela: I’m going to ask for your consent before each part of the exam. The first step is to collect hair samples. Can I comb through your hair for that?
Tamara: Yeah. As
Angela gently ran the comb through Tamara’s curly hair, Tamara leaned into Lucy, burying her face in her chest. Her shoulders shook with silent sobs. Lucy’s arms wrapped tightly around her, providing a silent kind of comfort.
Angela: Are you okay, honey? We can stop if it’s too much.
Tamara: No, I’m okay. Just… keep going. Angela finished and set the hair samples aside, then turned back to Tamara, her voice as gentle as she could make it.
Angela: Now I need to take some pictures of your injuries, and if you can, I’ll need you to explain how you got them. Is that okay?
Tamara let out a frustrated sigh.
Tamara: Stop asking if it’s okay. I’m fine. I’m used to it, just… do it.
Angela: Legally, I have to ask, Tam.
Tamara: Fine. Yes. It’s okay.
