Chapter 2 - THE TABLET
Police arrived because Sabrina called them.
I was glad she did.
Not immediately.
Immediately, I was furious.
Twenty minutes later, with Grace wrapped around me and Connor refusing to hand his tablet to anyone except an officer, I understood why procedure mattered.
I had slapped Sabrina.
Pinned her.
Cut her hair with scissors.
Her cruelty toward Grace did not erase that.
I told Officer Jenna Morales exactly what I had done.
“I hit her once.”
“Open hand?”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“I took the scissors and cut her hair.”
“Did she consent?”
“No.”
“Did you injure her skin?”
“I don’t think so.”
Sabrina had one superficial scratch near her ear.
No deep cut.
No stitches.
Her cheek was red.
My actions had consequences.
So would hers.
Grace was examined by paramedics.
No scalp wound.
No cut from the scissors.
Red pressure marks on her upper arms.
One bruise on her wrist that I had not noticed before.
That one mattered.
“Where did this come from?” the paramedic asked.
Grace looked at Margaret.
Then buried her face against my chest.
“I don’t know,” I said.
Officer Morales heard.
She crouched near Grace but did not interrogate her.
A child-protection investigator would handle that properly.
Connor remained beside the garden wall.
His father was away at a work conference.
Sabrina repeatedly demanded the tablet.
Police stopped her.
“It belongs to my son.”
“He says it contains evidence.”
“He’s ten.”
“That does not make the device yours to alter right now.”
Connor looked relieved.
He gave the tablet to Morales voluntarily after she explained it would be preserved.
“Will Mom get it back?”
“Eventually depends on the investigation.”
Connor nodded.
Then:
“Don’t delete anything.”
Sabrina shouted:
“I didn’t do anything!”
Connor flinched.
Morales looked at him.
“We’ll preserve it.”
I wanted to ask what was on it.
Every part of me wanted to.
The child-protection investigator stopped me.
“Not here.”
“Those are videos of my daughter.”
“And we need the child witnesses interviewed without adult contamination.”
I hated her for saying it.
She was right.
Grace went home with me that evening under a temporary safety plan.
No contact with Margaret or Sabrina.
Bella and Connor stayed temporarily with their father once he returned.
Until then, child services placed them with a screened maternal aunt.
Not because Connor had done anything wrong.
Because investigators did not yet know whether Sabrina’s home was safe.
At our apartment, Grace stood in front of the bathroom mirror.
Her hair looked painfully uneven.
I expected her to cry.
She touched the short side.
“Will it grow?”
“Yes.”
“All of it?”
“Yes.”
“Even where Aunt Sabrina took it?”
“Yes.”
She leaned into me.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Then:
“Are you going to cut her hair again?”
My stomach tightened.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because what I did was wrong too.”
“She did it first.”
“That explains why I was angry. It doesn’t make everything I did okay.”
Grace thought about that.
Children understand fairness differently than revenge.
Then she asked:
“Is Connor in trouble?”
“No.”
“He told.”
“Yes.”
“He wasn’t supposed to.”
I went still.
“Who said that?”
Grace looked toward the floor.
“I don’t know.”
Not ready.
I did not push.
The next morning, my attorney called.
Possible misdemeanor assault.
Maybe diversion.
Separate from the investigation into Sabrina and Margaret.
Then Detective Morales called.
“We completed a forensic image of Connor’s tablet.”
I stopped breathing.
“What did you find?”
“I can’t walk you through everything yet.”
“Why?”
“Because there are multiple child interviews pending.”
“Is Grace safe now?”
“Yes.”
“Was she safe there before?”
A pause.
“That is exactly what we’re investigating.”
Then Morales added:
“Anna, there are more recordings than Connor realized.”
“How many?”
May you like
“Enough that this is no longer about one haircut.”
And somewhere inside me, anger changed into fear.
