Chapter 4
The next morning, Mark called a lawyer.
He explained everything.
The vase. The bugs. The threats. The slap.
The lawyer told us we had a strong case.
Harassment. Assault. Illegal surveillance.
We could press criminal charges.
And we could get a restraining order.
Mark didn't hesitate.
"Do it," he said. "All of it."
That afternoon, we went to the police station.
We filed a report.
We gave them the evidence.
The bugs. The photographs. Mark's medical report from the doctor who had examined his cheek.
The police were appalled.
They told us they would investigate.
They told us Evelyn would be arrested and questioned.
And they told us how to apply for a restraining order.
Two days later, Evelyn was arrested.
The police called us to tell us.
Mark didn't say anything when he got the call.
He just hung up the phone and sat down.
He looked tired.
Defeated.
"She's going to hate me even more now," he said quietly.
I sat down beside him.
"She made her choices, Mark," I said. "This is her fault. Not yours."
He nodded, but I could see the guilt in his eyes.
He still loved his mother.
And this was tearing him apart.
The restraining order was granted a week later.
Evelyn was ordered to stay at least five hundred feet away from us.
From our house. From Mark's work.
From everywhere we went.
She was also ordered to have no contact with us.
No phone calls. No letters. No emails.
No contact through third parties.
We thought that would be the end of it.
We thought we could finally move on.
We were wrong.
Evelyn didn't respect the restraining order.
She found ways to get around it.
Flowers started showing up at our house.
Anonymous.
But we knew who they were from.
Letters arrived.
No return address.
But the handwriting was unmistakable.
Full of venom. Full of hatred.
*You'll regret this. You'll regret turning my son against me. You'll pay for what you've done.*
Mark called the police.
He filed more reports.
But it was hard to prove.
Evelyn was careful.
She never signed anything.
She never used her own phone.
She never let herself be seen.
And then things started happening.
Small things at first.
Our car tires were slashed.
Our mailbox was smashed.
Our garbage was scattered all over the yard.
The police said there was no proof it was Evelyn.
But we knew.
We both knew.
Mark was becoming more and more stressed.
He was having trouble sleeping.
He was having trouble at work.
He felt responsible.
Like he had brought this into our lives.
Like he had failed to protect me.
"It's not your fault," I told him again and again. "You didn't know. You couldn't have known."
But he didn't believe me.
The guilt was eating him alive.
And Evelyn...
She was winning.
Slowly.
Piece by piece.
She was tearing our marriage apart.
May you like
And I didn't know how to stop her.
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