Chapter 11 - Assembling the Cavalry
"Go to the guest room and pretend to fold laundry," I instructed Emily, keeping my voice low and authoritative. "Do not give them any reason to be suspicious. Give me exactly five minutes."
Emily nodded, wiping her face quickly and shuffling out of the kitchen. As soon as she was gone, I slipped quietly into the downstairs powder room, locking the door silently behind me. I turned on the sink faucet to muffle my voice and pulled my cell phone from my pocket. My hands were shaking with adrenaline, but my mind was crystal clear.
First, I texted my next-door neighbor back home, Diane. Diane was a retired, no-nonsense family law attorney who had spent thirty years fighting in the trenches of domestic abuse cases. I typed furiously: Diane. Emergency. Emily is in danger. Physical and emotional abuse. We are leaving tonight. I need you on standby for legal guidance immediately.
Her reply came through in less than ten seconds: I am awake and waiting. Tell me what you need.
Next, I dialed my husband, Mark. He answered on the second ring.
"Mark, don't ask questions, just listen to me," I said, my voice trembling with urgency. "Ryan put his hands on Emily. They have her trapped here. I need you to drop whatever you are doing, grab the spare infant car seat from the garage, pack an overnight bag for yourself, and drive down here to Columbus immediately. Break the speed limit if you have to."
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I could hear the sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line. Mark was a quiet man, but he loved his daughter fiercely. "I'm walking out the door right now, Carol. I will be there in three hours."
We had a solid, actionable plan assembled in under twenty minutes.
