Chapter 9
The baby was born six months later.
A girl.
Tiny.
Loud.
Healthy.
Dad requested a DNA test before signing anything.
Brenda’s family called him cruel.
Aunt Laura called him awake.
The test came back two weeks later.
The baby was not my father’s.
Dad sat at the kitchen table with the paper in his hand.
I stood in the doorway.
I did not know if I was allowed to feel relieved.
Dad saw me.
“It’s okay,” he said softly.
“What?”
“To feel whatever you feel.”
I started crying.
“I didn’t want to hate a baby.”
He crossed the room and hugged me.
“You don’t have to hate anyone to be safe from them.”
Brenda lost the last weapon she thought she had over him.
Mark left town.
Brenda’s mother took the baby.
For a while, I worried about her.
The baby.
Not Brenda.
Dad called child services twice to make sure she was safe.
That made me love him more.
Because even after everything, he did not punish an innocent child for Brenda’s sins.
Brenda pleaded guilty before trial.
The videos were too clear.
The kennel photo alone made her lawyer beg her to take the deal.
She received jail time, probation, mandatory counseling, and a permanent protective order keeping her away from me.
At sentencing, I gave a statement.
Aunt Laura stood beside me.
Dad sat in the front row crying silently.
I read from paper because my hands shook.
“You told me I was an animal,” I said. “But animals are not cruel for fun. People are. I hope you learn the difference.”
Brenda looked down.
For the first time, she did not smile.
May you like
I did not care if she was sorry.
I only cared that she could not lock me anywhere again.
