I'm Watching You by Mary Burton Read Free Book Online Page B

"Yes. Do you
have my discharge papers?"
    Irritation was a good sign. It meant spirit. She hadn't given up.
    Lindsay closed the curtain behind her. "No, I'm not with the
hospital. Dr. Begley asked me to talk to you for a few minutes."
    Understanding dawned in Gail's gray eyes. "You're a
social worker, aren't you?"
    Lindsay dug a Sanctuary business card out of her purse and handed it to
Gail. "My name is Lindsay O'Neil. I'm the director of a
women's shelter."
    Gail snatched the card, studied it. "Sanctuary. A haven for battered women." She tossed the card
on the floor. "I don't need this."
    Lindsay picked it up and laid it beside Gail. "That's right.
We shelter women who've been abused. The number on the card is the
hotline." She pulled out a pen and wrote her cell number on the back.
"You can always reach me at this other number, day or night."
    Gail slid off the exam table, wincing when her feet hit the ground.
"I'm not abused. I told that stupid doctor that I fell down the
stairs. What's the big deal?"
    "He was concerned."
    Her lips flattened as if she were barely holding on to her control.
"Well, I'm fine."
    Lindsay remained by the curtain so Gail wouldn't feel crowded. If
she didn't tread carefully, the woman would bolt. "There are old
bruises on your neck and they look like they were made by fingers."
    Color flooded Gail's face. "I hit my neck on the banister as
I fell down the stairs."
    "Why the long sleeves and pants in July?"
    "I'm cold natured."
    Lindsay's voice remained soft and calm, but sadness and anger
welled inside her. "Gail, I think you've been bullied enough
already. So I'm not going to debate the issue with you. Experience has
taught me that victims can be excellent liars."
    Gail bristled. "I'm not a liar. My husband is a good man. He
loves me. He works hard and would never hurt me on purpose."
    "But he did hurt you," Lindsay said quietly.
    Gail crushed the card in her hand. "I didn't say
that!"
    "Honey, the bruises did."
    Tears welled in Gail's eyes, and for a moment Lindsay thought she
would open up. She looked so small, so beaten down by life. Instead, the woman
straightened her shoulders and grabbed her purse off the exam table. "I
don't have to listen to this."
    Lindsay pressed her card deeper into Gail's hand. "No, you
don't. Just know you can reach me twenty-four/seven."
    A tear rolled down Gail's face and she angrily brushed it away.
She moved toward the curtain and shoved it open. "I won't be
calling."
    "I hope you do." She laid her hand on Gail's shoulder.
"If things do get bad, remember to run to a room with soft furniture.
Stay away from the kitchen and the bathrooms. They can be dangerous."
    Gail hesitated, then left the room.
    Lindsay listened to Gail's footsteps meld into the confusion of
the hospital. For a moment her knees felt weak and she had to sit in the metal
chair by the exam table. How many times had her mother made excuses for the
bruises that had marked her body? How many times had she forgiven her father
and stayed when she should have fled?
    Like Gail's, her mother's lies were rooted in fear, shame,
and the desperate hope that the abuse would really stop. But it never did.
    What Lindsay hadn't understood was why everyone had accepted her
mother's lies over and over again. No one had stepped in and no one had
cared. And her mother had paid with her own life.
    Jennifer appeared, her expression grim and
angry. "Room number six looked pissed when she stormed past."
    Lindsay straightened her shoulders, clinging to the hope that kept her
going. "Yeah, but she kept my card. I see that as a hopeful good
sign."
    Jennifer frowned. "Is she going home?"
    "That would be my guess. It's human nature to return to
places we know best."
    "But she's not safe there!"
    Lindsay clung to the bright side. "I have to have faith that
she'll survive until she finds the courage to call me or someone else for
help."
    "Damn it! That just doesn't seem good enough. Isn't
there anything we can do?"
    "Don't