PART 2 — The Truth Behind the Door
“Lena!”
Grant grabbed my arm.
“You can’t just walk into my house.”
I turned around.
My voice was calm.
“Touch me again, and you’ll regret it.”
He let go.
Not because he respected me.
Because he realized I was not afraid.
I rushed upstairs.
The bedroom door was half open.
The smell hit me first.
Perfume.
Fear.
And blood.
“Mara?”
My sister was on the floor.
One hand was protecting her stomach.
The other was shaking beside her broken phone.
Her face was bruised.
Her lip was split.
She looked at me.
And tears filled her eyes.
She tried to speak.
But no words came out.
I ran to her.
“I’m here.”
“You’re safe.”
Behind me, Grant appeared.
“She fell.”
I slowly turned.
“She fell?”
He nodded.
“Women in her condition are clumsy.”
I looked around the room.
The broken phone.
The blood on the wall.
The bruises on her arms.
The marks that didn’t match a fall.
Then I noticed his hand.
His ring finger was scratched.
Fresh.
I knew exactly what happened.
He had grabbed her.
She fought back.
I reached for my body camera.
And turned it on.
Grant froze.
“What are you doing?”
I looked straight at him.
“My job.”
His confidence cracked.
“You’re trying to ruin my life.”
“No.”
I replied.
“You did that yourself.”
The sirens were getting closer.
Grant started walking toward me.
“You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
I stood between him and my sister.
“Actually, I do.”
“And that’s why you’re scared.”
For the first time…
Grant had nothing to say.
Because he knew.
The room was no longer private.
May you like
The door was no longer closed.
And his lies were finally being recorded.
