Free Broken Beauty by Chloe Adams Page A

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    “Did Chris tell you about the other girls?” He keeps the statement on top of the folder in front of him.
    “What other girls?”
    “Dom, grab us some water.” The way he says it makes me think I won’t be leaving soon.
    Dom leaves. The whole feel of the room changes. I’m not safe anymore. My hands shake worse. I stretch across the table to grab the damn form and sign it. The DA plants his hand on it.
    “Look, I’ll sign it. I really want to go home now,” I say, anxiously.
    “We’ll get to that,” he says. “First, I want to show you something that’s probably going to earn me a lawsuit once you tell your lawyer.”
    I sigh. I’m not to the point yet where I want Chris anywhere near me, but I’m getting there fast.
    “Meet Jessica, Brittney, and Lana.” As he speaks each name, he sets a new picture in front of me.
    I stare at them then shove myself away from the table and stand, turning away. The pictures look like those of me in the hospital: young women beaten and bleeding.
    “What are you doing?” I demand.
    “There are more.” He’s calm. “Kendra, LeAnn, Ella.”
    I don’t dare look. I’m feeling nauseous again.
    “They all have something in common with you.”
    My breathing is coming faster. I lean against the wall.
    “When you were taken to the hospital, the officers took pictures and samples of your blood and the semen of your assailants,” the DA continues. “This is called a rape kit. The samples from the rape kit they did on you match those of these six women.”
    “I don’t understand,” I say.
    “That means the two men who hurt you, hurt these women, too.”
    Dom returns. He hands me a bottle of water and sets one down in front of the DA. I watch as he sits in the corner again.
    “Does that mean anything to you?” the DA asks.
    “No,” I reply.
    “I moved the pictures. Sit down.”
    I risk a peek at the table. It’s clear. I hes itate then sit, my whole body shaking. The statement is still sitting on his folder.
    “There is a difference between them and you,” the DA continues. “You are the only one who can remember your attackers. You are the only one who fought your attackers. We pulled the DNA from your fingernails, so we know you weren’t unconscious when they hurt you. None of these girls can remember anything about the nights they were raped.”
    “They’re lucky,” I say. “I wish I could say the same.”
    “I repeat,” the DA says more slowly. “You’re the only one of seven victims over the past few weeks who can remember. All of you had the same two attackers.”
    “So, what?”
    “You’re the only one who can identify who did this.”
    My breath catches, and suddenly I understand.
    “We pulled the pictures from your phone from that night. You took a picture before you were hurt. It’s time-stamped that night, around midnight.”
    “You said … you just want me to sign that,” I say, pointing. “Give it to me, and I will.”
    “If you sign it and you’re keeping information, you can be charged with perjury. Did Chris explain that to you?”
    I shake my head.
    “It means, if you know who hurt you and you lie on this form, you can go to jail.”
    “I’m so sick of being the one who gets punished. I’m the one who was attacked,” I almost shout at him.
    “Excuse me.” The DA looks down at his cell phone then stands. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Dom.”
    The two exchange a look. The DA leaves, and Dom takes his seat as the door closes.
    “Hey,” Dom says in the husky voice that calms my frazzled nerves.
    “Hey.”
    His dark eyes drop to the statement, and I feel like my heart is breaking. My protector, the man my grandfather sent to watch over me, is about to betray me like everyone else in my life does.
    “Not you, too, Dom,” I whisper, saddened.
    “You can stop them, Mia,” he replies. “The same guys who hurt you hurt all these girls. They’ll do it again.”
    “I can’t do anything, Dom.”
    “You gave