“What does it matter what he thinks?” Gia continues, insistent on getting a reaction. “Or is how other people see you all that matters?”
Marin has never confronted Gia about what the girl knows of her mother’s childhood. Fear kept her from saying anything. “Watch how you speak to me,” she says instead. Marin takes a step closer, knowing her move could be perceived as threatening. “Whatever you think you know, whatever story your teenage brain has conjured up is a lie. There’s nothing there. I don’t have to pretend to be anything. Everything I am, everything I provide for you is from my hard work. You can thank me anytime.” She calmly walks over to the bathroom, pushing the door open. “Now.”
Moving past Marin, Gia walks into the bathroom and shuts the door. Rooted to her spot, Marin waits, listening for the signs of her daughter stepping into the shower. Once satisfied, she leaves to get ready for the meeting.
“Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice.” The detective, Greg, takes a seat on the sofa in the den.
“Anything we can do to help the process move along faster,” Marin says from her seat on the chair. She avoids Raj’s sharp look. “What’s the next step?”
“We need a statement from Gia about everything that happened. From the beginning to the last incident.”
He’s young. If Marin had to venture a guess, he just earned his detective badge. Marin wonders if teenage domestic violence falls at the top or bottom of the promotion ladder. A prelude to real violence—except for their family, this was not a foreword; it was real.
“There were no incidents,” Gia says, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want Adam to go to jail.”
“That’s not the information we have,” Greg says, glancing at Marin.
“Then you have the wrong information,” Gia says with a gumption that surprises Marin. In another circumstance, she might actually feel pride in her daughter’s comeback, but right now it only fuels her simmering anger.
“Answer him, Gia,” Marin barks, startling everyone with the vehemence in her voice.
“Why don’t you?” Gia says. Seeming to accept she’s already lost the fight, she comes back with the only thing she has left—defiance.
Greg retrieves an envelope from his bag and starts to pull out pictures. Laying each one on the table, he faces Gia and Raj. “Photographs of your bruises. You remember them being taken?”
“Yes,” Gia murmurs, cringing at the sight of them. Raj visibly tenses next to her, his jaw clenched.
“And these?” Greg lays out another set, the ones from when Marin hired the detective. Dozens of Gia and Adam in front of his house, each one clearly date-stamped. “You acknowledge they are of you.” Gia nods. Greg takes out the final few, offering them to Gia. “These are the ones from the night before the arrest. The two of you together.” He pulls out the final pictures, hesitant in handing them over. “Here are the pictures of him hitting you.”
Raj takes the pictures from Gia’s hand, flipping through them, flinching at the ones that show Adam hitting her. Swallowing, he blinks back tears. Dropping the pictures, he starts to turn away when he notices the date and time stamp at the bottom of each photograph. “Who took these?” he demands, his eyes on the detective.
“A private investigator,” Greg says, oblivious to the storm brewing.
“Your office hired the PI?” Raj asks.
“No, we did not.”
“I think we need to focus, Raj, on the next steps for our daughter,” Marin interrupts, stopping the line of questioning. Gathering the pictures into a stack, she hands them back to the detective. “Do you need an official statement from Gia?”
“Yes.” Greg turns to Gia. “This young man hurt you and we have the proof. If there’s a trial, you will be subpoenaed to take the stand.”