Marin cancels all her appointments for the day. Her secretary, getting used to the unexpected vacation days, says nothing. Marin’s first call after speaking to her secretary is to the private investigator. “I need you to do one more job,” she instructs. After giving him the details, she slips into a suit and meets Deborah at her office.
“Thank you for stopping by Saturday.” Marin gives the woman a grateful smile, one of the few she’s ever shown. “Gia had no idea we had spoken.”
“It’s my job to fully investigate the situation. I must say, you’re playing a risky game.” The social worker leans back in her folding chair, eyeing Marin. Marin knew she had fulfilled her obligations as a social worker. She had opened a full-scale investigation, run down each possibility. Karen had informed Marin that the social worker had stopped by the school, interviewed her and the PE teacher. “But I commend your dedication.”
“She’s my daughter,” Marin says, as if that is enough explanation. “I kept her home all weekend. No contact with anyone besides me and her father.”
“Not with Adam?”
“None. I made sure she had no access to the boy. She’s back at school today.”
“You’re sure she’ll go home with him after?”
“Guaranteed.” Marin could tell from Gia’s anxiousness all weekend that she was desperate to tell Adam what had transpired over the weekend. The visit from the social worker had scared her. “My investigator is ready to take pictures.”
“Pictures of him in the act will prove he’s the one beating her. Bruises are only circumstantial evidence.” The social worker watches Marin carefully.
“Then let’s expect pictures of him in the act.”
Marin thought through each step and came up with the plan in detail. Experience with her father afforded Marin inside knowledge of how Adam’s mind would work. Fear of the social worker’s visit would drive him to desperation. With no other outlet, he would default to his preferred one—hitting Gia. He would convince her that it was her fault. She should have lied better, hidden her bruises more carefully, done anything that would absolve him and put the blame on her. Not only would she expect the beating, she’d convince herself she deserved it.
“He just turned eighteen.” Deborah holds Marin’s gaze. “He’ll be charged as an adult.”
“I’m very aware of that.” Marin is anxious for the next step. “Let’s move this forward.”
It is the longest twenty-four hours Marin can remember. That night, she forces herself to work while waiting for the sound of Gia’s arrival home. Raj, still in the dark, is busy at work. Marin finds herself rereading documents only to forget every word she just read. Giving up, she turns off the computer and sits in her chair, waiting.
The jingle of keys is the first thing that fills the silence. Then the front door opens and shuts. Marin jumps up, ready to bolt out of the room, when she hears the soft crying. Small gasps in an attempt to hide. Marin leans her forehead against the closed door of her office, steeling herself. Only when she is ready does she walk out, prepared to face her daughter.
“Gia.” Marin’s voice betrays none of the emotion she feels. “Are you all right, Beti?”
“Yeah.” Gia quickly wipes at her face, wincing when she lifts her arm. “I’m just tired.” She moves toward the stairs, ready to make her escape. “I’m going to go to bed.”
“You were out late,” Marin says, stopping her. Glancing at her watch, she murmurs, “Almost ten. You were studying?”
“Yes.” Gia doesn’t hesitate. “For a quiz. With friends.”
“Which friends?” Marin asks, sharper than she meant to.