Chapter 10
The trial was set for three months later.
Three months of waiting.
Three months of worrying.
Three months of my family trying to break us.
They called.
They texted.
They sent letters.
All saying the same thing.
Drop the charges.
Or else.
Sarah changed her phone number.
I changed mine.
We installed a security system.
We kept the doors locked.
The curtains drawn.
We were living in fear.
But we never considered dropping the charges.
Not for a second.
Rosie continued her therapy with Dr. Lopez.
She was getting better.
She talked about what had happened.
She drew pictures.
She played with dolls.
And slowly, the fear in her eyes faded.
She started laughing again.
Really laughing.
She started asking about the park.
About playdates.
About being a normal four-year-old girl.
Sarah and I... we were changing too.
We were living together.
Not as husband and wife.
But as partners.
As parents.
And something more.
We would stay up late, talking.
About the trial.
About Rosie.
About our lives.
About what could have been.
What still could be.
I found myself looking at Sarah differently.
Noticing things I had forgotten.
The way she laughed.
The way she cared for Rosie.
The way she stood by me.
Even when everything was falling apart.
She noticed me too.
I could see it in her eyes.
But neither of us said anything.
We had a trial to get through first.
We had to stay focused.
One night, about a month before the trial, I was working late.
I was on my laptop, going through case files with Karen.
Sarah was asleep.
Rosie was asleep.
The house was quiet.
Then I heard it.
A sound outside.
A tap on the window.
I froze.
I listened.
Another tap.
Then another.
I stood up.
I walked to the living room window.
I pulled back the curtain just enough to see.
There was someone outside.
A man.
He was throwing small pebbles at the window.
I couldn't see his face clearly.
It was dark.
But he was big.
Tall.
He looked up.
Right at me.
He knew I was there.
He raised his hand.
He made a slashing motion across his throat.
Then he turned and walked away.
I ran to the front door.
I threw it open.
He was gone.
Vanished into the night.
I stood there, in the doorway, my heart hammering.
Sarah came running out.
"Mark? What's wrong?"
"Someone was here," I said. "Throwing pebbles at the window. He made a threat."
Sarah's face went pale.
"Did you see who it was?"
I shook my head.
"No. But I know who sent him."
My family.
They were escalating.
This wasn't just words anymore.
This was threats.
Real threats.
I called the police.
They came.
They took a report.
They said they would increase patrols in the area.
But they also said there wasn't much they could do.
Not without proof.
Not without a name.
That night, Sarah and I sat in the living room.
The lights were all on.
Neither of us could sleep.
"They're trying to scare us," Sarah said.
"It's working," I admitted.
Sarah took my hand.
"We can't let them win," she said. "We can't let them make us afraid in our own home."
"I know," I said. "But what if they hurt someone? What if they hurt Rosie?"
Sarah squeezed my hand.
"They won't," she said. "We won't let them. We have the security system. We have the police. And we have each other."
She looked at me.
Her eyes were fierce.
"We're going to win this, Mark," she said. "For Rosie. For us. We're going to win."
I wanted to believe her.
I really did.
May you like
But as I looked at the dark window, I couldn't help but wonder.
At what cost?
