Page 11 of Guarding Over You
“Those are conflicting stories,” she said, but they were noted. “Can you explain the bruises on your daughter?”
“She and Corey were wrestling and he gets a little more excited. He’s high energy and not always easy to control. All accidents.”
“The broken glass this morning. Abigail stated Corey threw it at her and she rushed to pick it up so that she didn’t get in trouble and that is how she cut herself. Your explanation was that Abigail dropped it. You were also overheard stating it serves her right and getting cut was her punishment.”
Mrs. Oliver’s face turned crimson. “That was taken out of context.”
“And we are trying to clear it up. I see some bruises on your wrist. Do you feel unsafe in your house?”
Maybe she had this all wrong and it was the boyfriend? She’d seen enough abused women in her life, but this woman didn’t come off that way.
“I’m safe. Tony would never hurt me.”
“What about Corey?” she asked. Mrs. Oliver tugged her sleeves down to cover the faded yellowing bruises.
“I told you, he has excess energy. Maybe some behavioral issues. But Tony said he was like that as a kid too and he’s fine.”
“So Corey is Tony’s son?” she said.
“Yes. He’s able to control Corey more, but he works a lot. This morning was an accident, the same with everything else. Corey doesn’t mean it; he just can’t control himself.”
They talked for another thirty minutes. Arden told Mrs. Oliver that they had to report the incident to social services andto expect a call, but she knew there was so much on the caseloads that it might take time.
She also knew that, unfortunately, not much could happen either. Not without something more serious than bruises.
What she felt was sympathy for the little girl having to live in that home.
After she left Mrs. Oliver, she found Abigail sitting at a children’s table hugging her teddy bear next to her while she flipped through books.
Sometimes the system failed, and her hands were tied.
“Hi, sweetie.”
“Can I go back to my mother?”
“I just need to ask you a few more questions. I have her permission to record us, is that okay?”
“Yes,” Abigail said, dropping her head. “Am I in trouble?”
“No, you’re not. Can you explain to me what you said earlier about the bruises that your younger brother Corey left on your legs and what your mother’s response was to it?”
She listened to the little girl chatting while she drew pictures. She found it easier for the kids to talk when they were occupied with something else.
“Will Corey leave me alone now? He scares me.”
And those were the words that needed to be said and they came unprompted.
She turned toward the window knowing there was an officer there listening in.
“I don’t want you to be scared, but you need to tell someone if you are. Or if he hurts you.”
“I tell my mother, but she doesn’t believe me. She said Tony will take care of it, but it happened again.”
There was another ten minutes of conversation, then she got up and left, the officer coming toward her. “We’ll take it from here.”
“Thanks,” she said, feeling defeated.
It was the best she could do. There was a good chance that Abigail could find shelter with another family member until an investigation was done, but it was out of her hands.
