“The open house happened that night. I thought he’d be too busy preparing for it to realize what I’d done, and he’d have the weekend to calm down.”
Emily’s hands flatten on the table.
“Parents and prospective families were touring the classrooms. Carson arrived late, which was out of character for him, and he approached me right away.” The memory of the fluorescent lights and crowded hallways fills my mind. “He asked to speak in private.”
Grady shakes his head. “Let me guess. Supply closet.”
“Close. Storage room beside the gym.” My throat tightens. “I refused at first. But he kept calm. Parents were standing right there. If I refused, it would turn into a scene.” I swallow. “So I stepped into the hallway with him.”
The walls close in around us.
“He followed me into the storage room and shut the door.”
Emily’s breathing slows, controlled and dangerous.
“He said withdrawing from the courtship made him appear foolish. That I’d embarrassed him.” My fingers curl into my palm. “Then he grabbed my wrists.”
The memory brings with it the same fear I felt when trapped by Carson, both back in Westbrook and earlier in my motel room.
“He told me the Registry would never believe I’d ended things in the right frame of mind. That an Omega breaking courtship contracts raises questions about emotional stability.”
Jared’s chair groans.
“He tried to force me to reinstate it.”
Emily tucks her hair behind her ears, as if she needs the movement to stay seated. “And you refused.”
“Yes.” I straighten as thunder rattles the window panes. “And he shoved me into the metal shelving for not falling in line.”
My fingers flex with the memory. “I pushed back.”
The rain intensifies on the roof, drowning out the soft crackle from the fireplace.
“He struck first,” I say. “Caught my shoulder when I tried to slip by.”
A flicker from the bulb casts jagged shadows. “So I hit him.”
Grady puts the pen back to paper. “What happened next?”
I exhale a long-held breath. “I split his lip, which is what the one witness reported.”
“No one saw the bruises on my wrists.” I flex my fingers. “Or him blocking the door.”
Jared asks, the question brittle, “And after that?”
“The investigation.” I let out a breath that’s been trapped in my lungs for years. “I filed a report with the school board. Submitted emails. Documentation. Statements from two teachers who’d witnessed his behavior in the past.”
Grady leans forward, his focus on the notepad. “And?”
“The files were removed from the record. The witnesses recanted.” I stare at the wood grain, re-experiencing my disbelief when I found out. “The principal suggested the altercation might be a misunderstanding between lovers.”
Emily’s hands curl into fists.
“He suggested I accept Carson’s Mark to restore professional harmony.”
A rumble of thunder rolls across overhead.
My eyes lift to meet Emily’s. “That was the moment I understood there was no version of my story where I was safe at Westbrook.”