Chapter 2 - THE CALL TO TESTIFY
The business card remained untouched on my kitchen table for nearly a week.
Every morning before work, I glanced at it while pouring coffee. Every evening, after returning from the diner, I found myself staring at the embossed lettering as though it carried the weight of my entire future.
Assistant District Attorney.
Victim Services Division.
One phone call.
That was all it would take.
But dialing that number meant reopening a chapter of my life I had fought desperately to close.
"You've looked at that card at least twenty times today," Aunt May said one evening as she shelled peas on the porch.
"I know."
"So what's stopping you?"
I watched the waves crashing against the rocks below the bluff.
"If I testify, I'll have to relive everything."
"You'll relive it once."
She placed another handful of peas into the bowl.
"But the women who come after you might never have to."
Her words stayed with me.
The following afternoon, Grant drove me to work as he often did.
He never asked whether I had made a decision.
That was one of the things I admired most about him.
Kyle had always demanded answers.
Grant simply waited until I was ready to give them.
Halfway to the diner, I reached into my purse.
"Can you pull over?"
Without hesitation, he eased the truck onto the shoulder.
"You okay?"
"I need to make a phone call."
Grant nodded once and stepped outside, giving me complete privacy.
I stared at the number for nearly thirty seconds before pressing Call.
A calm woman answered.
"Victim Services. This is Rebecca."
"My name is..." I hesitated.
"Lena Morgan."
The name felt safe.
Then I took a slow breath.
"My legal name is Lena Collins."
Silence.
Then keyboard clicks.
"I've been expecting your call."
My stomach tightened.
"You knew I'd contact you?"
"We hoped you would."
Rebecca explained that Brad and Chase had been arrested after locking a young employee inside an abandoned office building overnight while secretly filming her panic for another online prank.
The woman suffered severe emotional trauma.
Investigators had uncovered years of similar videos.
Most victims refused to cooperate.
Many had signed releases after being manipulated into believing everything had been harmless.
"But your case is different," Rebecca explained.
"You disappeared."
"I escaped."
"Exactly."
She paused.
"Your story demonstrates a long-term pattern of psychological abuse."
After hanging up, I remained inside the truck.
Grant quietly climbed back into the driver's seat.
"You called."
"I did."
"How do you feel?"
I laughed softly.
"Terrified."
"Good."
I frowned.
"Good?"
"Because courage isn't the absence of fear."
He smiled.
"It's deciding fear doesn't get the final vote."
Three weeks later, a subpoena arrived.
Seeing my former name typed across an official document sent an unexpected chill through my body.
Lena Collins.
I barely recognized her anymore.
Grant found me sitting on the porch holding the envelope.
"You don't have to do this alone."
"I know."
"I'll be there."
"I know."
He sat beside me.
Neither of us spoke for several minutes.
Sometimes silence carried more comfort than conversation ever could.
The hearing was scheduled in Phoenix.
Returning to Arizona felt strangely unreal.
The airport smelled exactly as I remembered.
The dry air scraped against my throat.
Even the endless desert beyond the highway seemed frozen in time.
Grant rented a car while I stared out the passenger window.
"I used to think this place was beautiful."
"It still is."
"Maybe."
"But beauty doesn't erase bad memories."
"No."
"It just reminds us they aren't the same thing."
The courthouse was larger than I expected.
Victims and witnesses filled the waiting room.
Some looked angry.
Others exhausted.
One young woman couldn't have been older than twenty-three.
She sat twisting the sleeve of her sweater until her knuckles turned white.
When our eyes met, she offered a nervous smile.
"Were you... one of them too?"
I nodded.
"Years ago."
"They told everyone I was overreacting."
"They told me that too."
Her shoulders relaxed.
"I thought I was the only one."
"No."
I reached across the space between our chairs.
"You never were."
For the first time since arriving, I realized this hearing wasn't about revenge.
It wasn't even about Kyle anymore.
It was about every woman who had ever been told that humiliation was entertainment.
The courtroom doors opened.
A bailiff called my name.
"Lena Collins."
Grant squeezed my hand once before letting go.
"You've already survived the hardest part."
I looked toward the courtroom.
Five years earlier, I had stood alone in the Arizona desert believing no one would ever hear my voice.
Today, an entire courtroom was waiting to listen.
May you like
And this time...
I wasn't afraid of being laughed at anymore.
