“Laken…” Dr. McMillan starts.
“No. I want to go home to Montana. I want my parents. I want to never have married that monster. I want small-town life and everything it represents.” I miss home. I haven’t been back to Hamilton since getting married a little over a year ago. Mason was a steamroller at first. I thought it was just because he was so excited to marry me. As it turned out, he was tired of hiding the monster beneath the surface.
“Okay, darling, we’ll get you there.” I don’t say anything because how can they? They don’t know my husband, the power he wields. I’ll never be free.
Soon after I stop responding to them, I’m left alone before being wheeled up to Obstetrics, where they perform a D&C to remove the now-dead fetus. A fetus I fought so hard not to love at first because I was terrified of the inevitability of losing her. But it happened anyway. I fell in love with a baby whose gender hadn’t been revealed yet, but I wished for a girl and called her Strawberry Shortcake because that was my favorite show when I was little. I made plans and had dreams for her future.
Now they’re all gone. A void replaces my soul. An emptiness I don’t ever want to feel again.
“Knock, knock.” A woman cracks open the door. The security guard remains in sight as she slips in. “Good evening, Laken. My name is Janet Walker. I’m a crisis counselor from Social Services, and Dr. McMillan called me this afternoon after your procedure.”
Raising the back of the bed upright a bit more, I sit straighter as the older woman walks farther into the room. “Hi.”
Pulling the guest chair closer to my bed, she sits down with a briefcase in one hand and a binder in the other. “Is it alright if I call you Laken?” I tip my head. I don’t ever want to be Mrs. Miller again. “Good, I thought it might be more comfortable for you.”
I stare at her because I don’t know what to say, what she wants me to say. Watching as she shuffles through some papers in her binder, she places a few sheets and a pen on the small rolling table at the end of my bed.
“Gloria—Dr. McMillan—has informed me of the number of times you’ve been in over the last year. The losses you’ve suffered.” Pity shines in her eyes as she looks up at me. “Today, she told me you finally expressed a desire to get help. Is that true?”
Trust doesn’t come naturally to me, so I only shrug my shoulders. I don’t know this woman well enough to tell if she’s faking her abilities and concern or if she’s genuine.
“That’s okay. I’m here to help anyways. These papers”—she points to the table—“are release forms and protective orders. I’m waiting on a colleague from the district attorney’s office so she can fill them out and go into more detail.”
Interlacing her fingers, she places them on the closed binder in her lap as she studies me. I feel like a bug under a microscope. “Is she coming today?” I try not to squirm.
“Yes, she’s on her way now. Stuck in traffic.” I nod again.
The silence is awkward and laced with tension. I’ve always felt a need to fill that void, and today is no different. “They say lost.” Settling my head against the pillow, I notice her lean forward, keen on hearing what I have to say. “You lost the baby. Like she was misplaced. Like she’ll ever be found again.” Swallowing at the realization that I’ve failed to keep three babies safe is a sobering thought. “I didn’t lose them, though. He killed them. He murdered my babies because morning sickness lasts all day and night for me. Because my body is an inconvenience to him when I’m not readily available because I’m trying to grow another human being inside of me.”
The words settle in the air like lightning strikes, cracking against the ground and leaving devastation in their wake. I don’t need to look at Janet to know she’s speechless. Nobody talks about the effects of the loss of a child as openly as they should. Even in the support groups I’ve tried joining, they leave things out. The despicable and brutal reasons why a child dies in the womb.
“I wish I knew the right words to say to help you heal. Unfortunately, I suspect you’ve been told a million different things, and nobody has had the wherewithal to be brutally honest with you.” Turning my head, I stare at her with unshed tears in my eyes. “The truth is that life sucks. Life sucks even more for you because you aren’t with someone who can love and respect you enough to treat you like you rightfully deserve. The truth is, you’re right. He murdered your babies, and there isn’t enough justice in the world to make even a dent in the agony you must feel.”
Reaching forward, Janet grips my hand tightly in both of hers. “But today is the day you are going to reclaim your freedom. You’ll get out, and I’ll help you learn to live with the burdens you’re carrying.”
“We.” Another woman enters the room. “Weare going to help you. And get you justice.” A second woman follows her inside. “Laken, my name is Andrea Shay, and I work with a specialized unit of the DA’s office. My sole purpose in life is to assist women just like you in escaping marriages and relationships that you might not otherwise be able to leave. This is your new best friend and bodyguard for the next year, Lauren Brown.”
“Year?” I squeak out.
“Yes, this is a process. We’ll move you around every few months to ensure Mr. Miller can’t contact you. After a year, everything will be finalized, and I’m betting he’ll have given up. However, I want to ensure you’re safe before I set you free from our program.” With her hands folded over the papers Janet brought, Andrea appears determined.
“If you’re willing to work at living again, we’re willing to fight for you.” Janet’s voice is soft as fear of Mason locating me creeps in.
“What if he finds me?” I don’t know if I could survive another day in his presence.
“If, and I want you to understand that is a very big if, Mason finds you, that’s the reason you have Lauren. She is federally licensed to act in a protective manner on your behalf. We will only send you to sister cities that also run a domestic violence unit similar to ours. If for any reason, Lauren is unable to protect you, all you’ll have to do is press the button on this bracelet, and it will alert local authorities to your location.” Presenting me a simple silver cuff bracelet with a button that looks like a pendant, I exhale the breath I’ve been holding.
“All you have to do is say yes, and you’re out of here today.” Lauren finally speaks.
“Yes.”What have I got to lose?
Three days later.
We’ve spent each night in a different hotel, needing to stay on the move until Janet and Andrea give Lauren the okay to settle down for a couple of months. Mason refuses to believe that I’ve left him and has filed a missing person’s report, claiming I might be suicidal after the loss of another baby. What he left out was that it’s not suicide that’s a threat to me but rather homicide. By his hands.
Andrea is working with someone higher up the chain of command in the police department but won’t give them any details as to my whereabouts. It’s how it has to be. Eventually, I might have to make a court appearance, but until a judge orders to see me in person, it’ll all be done through her or via video conference. I’d prefer she just handle everything until I need to sign my name.
As we enter the state of Colorado, getting farther and farther away from home, I try to quell the tears as they rush to the surface. I was only permitted a quick call with my parents before leaving the hospital to let them know I was okay and getting away from Mason. I couldn’t tell them anything more, not only because I’m not allowed to but because I don’t know much more anyway. Lauren gets texted GPS coordinates each morning about thirty minutes before we leave, and that’s it. It’s comforting to realize I’m not alone in being kept in the dark.