“No,” Madison said adamantly. Her eyes narrowed. Her jaw clenched, and her bottom lip protruded. Desiree thought she looked as if she would rather fight her than take that scarf off.
“Have you replaced one bad habit with another?” Desiree asked. “You have everyone watching you like a hawk, making sure you’re eating right and keeping it down. But maybe when you’re alone in your room, you do something else to punish yourself.”
Madison got to her feet and yelled down into Desiree’s face, “I don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. And you can’t make me, you nosy bitch!”
Desiree sat in her chair and calmly looked up at Madison. “That’s right, I’m a nosy bitch. For six months you’ve sat on that couch lying to me, and I’m tired of it. If you don’t think you’re worth saving, why should I? If you don’t want to fight for your life, why should I?” Now she stood, her eyes never leaving Madison’s face. “You want to know a secret, Madison? We are born into this world alone, and we die alone. In between life and death, those of us who survive learn one valuable lesson—we’ve got to love ourselves. We can’t count on others to love us, because human beings are selfish. They live in their own worlds. You’ve got to love yourself, Madison. You’ve got to care about yourself if no one else does. And you’ve got to fight to stay alive! Now, you can leave here today, resenting your parents, parents who love you, no matter how much you think they don’t, and thinking of me as that nosy bitch who has wasted your valuable time, or you can choose to live, take care of yourself, be strong and accept the fact that no one can do it for you. I’m not going to waste any more of your parents’ money on sessions with you, Madison. If you want to be rid of me, you are rid of me. Don’t come back here.” She pointed to the door. “Now get out. The big bad world is waiting for you. Either it will eat you up, or you’ll learn to fight back and choose life, your choice!”
Madison was looking at her as though she’d lost her mind. She angrily snatched her shoulder bag off the couch and began walking toward the door. “I’m going to tell my parents how you talked to me, and they’re going to sue your ass.”
“That’s fine. Your mother’s just outside that door in the waiting room,” Desiree said, undaunted. “Goodbye, Madison.”
For a moment, Madison stood frozen, staring at her; then her mouth began trembling, and she started crying. She looked at Desiree helplessly, tears soaking her cheeks. “I’m scared,” she said pitifully. In a defeated gesture, she dropped her shoulder bag back onto the couch and reached up to remove the scarf. Desiree gasped when she saw the many bald spots on the girl’s scalp. She had to force herself to stand there, when her gut reaction was to immediately comfort Madison. Meanwhile the brave teen struggled to find her next words. “He said no one would ever believe me if I told,” Madison finally said.
“He?” Desiree gently coaxed.
“Mr. Sawyer, my math teacher. I’m his classroom aide. His class is the last of the day, and I stay late and help him collect papers to grade, clean the classroom, that kind of thing. It started with warm hugs, and then one day he just grabbed me. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t do that. I knew girls who did, but I didn’t do that. Now I’m one of them. I’m one of those girls who let boys do things to them. I let him, and I keep letting him.”
Desiree was across the room and pulling Madison into her arms in a flash. She had known there was more to Madison’s suffering, but she had not imagined anything this horrible.
“Everything’s going to start getting better from this moment,” she promised Madison as she rocked the girl in her arms. “He’s never going to touch you again. He’s never going to touch any child again.”
Madison wept, and Desiree got madder. “Baby girl, men like Sawyer not only molest young girls’ bodies, but they manipulate them and prey on their minds. But you can get the power that he took from you back by making sure that he’s punished for what he did to you. You’re not the victim here. You’re the strong one.”
She walked over to her desk with Madison still in her arms and pressed the intercom on her phone. When her assistant, Mellie, answered, she said, “Mellie, tell Mrs. Samuelson to get in here now.”
Decker was having a good week. With the aid of a crack private investigation team that worked for his firm, he’d successfully represented a construction company owner accused of killing his business rival. The investigators had uncovered evidence the police had overlooked, proving that Decker’s client had been set up by the wife of his rival who sought not only to get rid of her husband and collect the insurance money, but to let someone else take the blame for her crime.
It was with much satisfaction, on Friday afternoon, that Decker heard the judge proclaim, “Case dismissed!”
Decker turned to his client and shook his hand. The poor man appeared almost faint with relief. He enthusiastically pumped Decker’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough!” he cried, with tears of happiness in his eyes.
“My pleasure,” Decker assured him. “Now go hug your wife.”
His wife was waiting just behind them. Decker picked up his briefcase and he and his paralegal, Mike Lofton, left the courtroom. On the way down the courthouse steps, his cell phone rang. It was his administrative assistant, Kym Johnson. “Sir, I’ve got mayoral candidate Todd Pratt on the other line. He’s been arrested on corruption charges. He wants you to represent him.”
“Not another corrupt politician,” Decker complained. Last year he’d represented a former state senator accused of accepting bribes. Turned out the senator had lied through his teeth when he said he was innocent, and all it took was a good attorney to convince the jury of it. Well, Decker had fought valiantly while evidence of the senator’s guilt had piled up. The senator had gone to prison. After that Decker vowed to stay clear of politicians. “Tell him he’ll have to get himself another lawyer,” Decker told Kym.
“Whatever you say, sir,” said Kym.
Decker put his phone away and turned to Mike, an eager young man who was working as a paralegal while he studied for his law degree. “You know what, Mike,” Decker said, looking up at the clear blue, late March sky, “why don’t you take the rest of the day off? I think I’ll head home.”
Mike beamed. “Why, thank you, sir.”
“Go have fun,” Decker said. He was feeling magnanimous. An innocent man was free to go home with his loving wife. It was a beautiful spring day. Best of all, he was going to be seeing Desiree in a matter of hours.
He and Mike said their goodbyes and parted, going in opposite directions. Decker walked swiftly to the parking garage across the street. He couldn’t wait to see Desiree.
They’d spoken over the phone a couple of times this past week but had not seen each other. When they were on the phone he’d ask her how she was doing, wanting her to open up to him and tell him what sort of traumatic experience she’d recently gone through. But he could tell from her tone that she’d wanted to keep things light between them. He’d then asked her about work, which she said she couldn’t talk about much because of doctor/patient confidentiality. She would make vague references to her clients like how she felt close to a breakthrough with one patient, or she felt she wasn’t getting anywhere with another one, but never any mention of a specific mental illness.
As a lawyer, he understood the need to keep privileged information under wraps. He simply wanted her to share her life with him.
He tossed negative thoughts aside as he climbed into the SUV, drove out of the parking garage and headed home. He had a great night planned for them. He was taking her to his favorite Italian restaurant in downtown Raleigh. They