The babysitter

Facing it

Lucy sat on the couch in Tim's living room, her hands nervously fidgeting in her lap. She had barely slept the night before, her mind consumed by the events of the past few days. Emma had been a comforting presence, her innocent chatter a temporary distraction from the storm brewing inside Lucy's heart.

Tim walked into the room, holding two steaming mugs of coffee. He placed one in front of Lucy and sat down across from her.

"Hey," he said softly, his voice steady and grounding.

"Hey," she replied, her voice quiet but tinged with a fragile hope.

Tim cleared his throat, hesitating for a moment before speaking. "I talked to my supervisor. They can put Louis behind bars."

Lucy's eyes widened. "That's great!" she said, a flicker of relief breaking through her tension.

Tim nodded, but his expression was serious. "There's one thing."

Her smile faded slightly. "Yeah?"

"They need you to tell them everything," he said gently but firmly. "My friend, Wesley Evers—he's a fantastic lawyer. He'll make sure you have the best chance of winning the case. But to build it, we need evidence. That means you'll have to share every detail."

Lucy's stomach twisted, and she looked down at her hands. The thought of reliving everything Louis had done was suffocating, but she knew Tim was right. If she wanted to be free, truly free, she had to face it.

After a long silence, she met Tim's gaze. "I'll do it."

Tim reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "You're not alone in this. I'll be with you every step of the way."

A few hours later, Lucy sat in a dimly lit conference room at the law office. The air felt heavy, the walls seeming to close in on her as Wesley Evers introduced himself. He was kind, with a calm demeanor that put her somewhat at ease.

"We'll take this one step at a time," Wesley assured her, sliding a legal pad across the table. "Start from the beginning. Whatever you feel comfortable sharing, we'll build from there."

Lucy nodded, gripping the edge of the pad as if it were a lifeline. She took a deep breath and began to speak.

"At first, Louis seemed... charming," she began, her voice trembling. "It was an arranged marriage, so I didn't have a choice, but he made me believe it wouldn't be so bad."

Her voice wavered as she recounted the early days, how the manipulation had started subtly—a critical comment here, a controlling decision there.

"Then it escalated," she said, her voice breaking. "He would get angry over the smallest things. He started isolating me, controlling who I could talk to, where I could go."

Wesley nodded, jotting down notes but keeping his focus on her. "Take your time," he said gently.

Lucy swallowed hard and continued, detailing the first time Louis had hit her, the excuses he had made, and how he always managed to twist things around to make her feel at fault.

"There were times I thought about leaving," she admitted, tears streaming down her face. "But he always found a way to pull me back. He'd apologize, promise to change, and for a while, I believed him."

Her voice grew steadier as she recounted the most recent events—the night she had finally fled, the bruises, the threats. Wesley asked a few clarifying questions, but he never rushed her, allowing her to share at her own pace.

By the time she finished, her throat felt raw, and her hands were shaking. Wesley set his pen down and leaned forward.

"Lucy, what you've been through is horrific," he said, his voice filled with compassion. "But your testimony is incredibly powerful. With the evidence we've gathered and your statement, we have a strong case. Louis won't get away with this."

She nodded, wiping her eyes with the tissue Wesley handed her.

Tim was waiting in the lobby when she emerged, her face pale but her tears dried. He stood as soon as he saw her, his expression a mix of concern and pride.

"How'd it go?" he asked softly.

"I told them everything," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tim didn't hesitate. He pulled her into a hug, wrapping his arms around her protectively. Lucy leaned into him, letting the strength of his embrace hold her together.

"I'm proud of you," he murmured against her hair.

Before she could respond, a small voice called out. "Lucie!"

Lucy turned to see Emma running toward her, her face lighting up with a big smile. She crouched down just in time to catch Emma in her arms, holding her tightly.

"Hey, Em," she said, her voice softer now. "I missed you."

Emma pulled back just enough to look at her. "Did you get the bad guy?"

Lucy glanced at Tim, a small smile tugging at her lips. "We're working on it," she said.

"Good," Emma declared confidently. "Daddy says you're really brave."

Lucy felt a lump in her throat as she looked between Emma and Tim. "I don't feel very brave," she admitted.

Tim crouched beside her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "That's because real bravery isn't about not being scared. It's about doing what's right, even when you are."

Lucy met his gaze, her eyes shining with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

Tim smiled, and Emma hugged her again, her tiny arms squeezing tightly.

That evening, back at the Bradford household, the three of them worked together to make dinner. Emma insisted on helping, carefully measuring out ingredients while Lucy and Tim handled the rest.

As they sat down to eat, Lucy felt a warmth she hadn't experienced in a long time—a sense of safety, of belonging.

For the first time in what felt like forever, she allowed herself to hope.