Jane Doe No More by M. William Phelps Read Free Book Online Page B

You’d need a special tool, strong enough to get through a tough outer coating of wire that was manufactured to withstand New England weather.
    Furthermore, the more Donna thought about it, the more she suspected that her attacker might have snuck into the house before she arrived home from her night out with the kids. Maybe he had hidden inside somewhere until everyone was in bed. Whatever the case, the man who attacked Donna must have known her routine, or even personal aspects of her life. Donna Palomba had been chosen as a target; she was not attacked at random, which could only mean one thing.
    Donna knew her attacker.

CHAPTER FIVE
    Life Goes On . . . But Only for a Moment
    Donna Palomba’s greatest desire was to go to sleep one night soon with the consoling feeling that the man who had raped her was behind bars. But weeks after the attack, as she began the process of taking back her life, she realized that wouldn’t be the case.
    Donna was a successful marketing executive at a small advertising agency that she and two partners had started in 1987. The agency, GP&P, named for Nick Gugliotti (her cousin), Tom Peterson (a friend), and Donna, was the result of a dream and years of hard work. 

We had a handful of employees—a couple designers, receptionist, bookkeeper. We were truly like a family. I worked four days a week so I could be home with the kids on Tuesdays, and since I was working part-time and having babies when we formed the agency, I was a minority owner but always hoped one day to be an equal partner (which eventually happened). I remember when Johnny (our son) was born. The agency was young. I felt needed at the office. I came back to work two weeks after Johnny was born and turned my office into a nursery. I took him with me so I could nurse him and be with him.

    Now, after her attack, Donna would get counseling. There would be times of tremendous emotional struggle. But this assault was not going to defeat Donna Palomba. Part of the healing process, Donna knew, was getting back into the swing of everyday life right away and leaning on her Catholic faith. She had turned to her religion before in times of celebration and desperation. She knew her love and faith in God could carry her through what would be the toughest period of her life, and it was that inherent trust in God, Donna was convinced, that had been driving her since the very moment her world had been turned upside down.

It was amazing to me when I looked back on it later, that on the night of my attack, this immense feeling of gratitude had come over me. I never felt, Why me? Why did this have to happen? From the first moment after the attack, I was overcome with a sense of gratefulness like I had never experienced. I was elated to be alive. He put a gun to my mouth and then to my temple. I absolutely believed that I was going to be killed. I did not think I would survive. And my children . . . my goodness, they slept through the entire episode. After I had a moment to stop and realize, okay, my children are fine  . . . even as I stood there in my neighbor’s kitchen, I knew I would be okay with what happened. The attack would not define who I am. I felt like a survivor, not a victim. This belief, along with my strong faith, would carry me through the worst days of my life, which would lie ahead. I had literally cried out to God that night in my bedroom, asking Him to absolve me of all my sins—because I believed my days in this world were over. Maybe that’s why I was able to overcome this with so much gratitude. A family member said something about a week after the crime that I heard about, and it bothered me: “Donna will never be the same . . .” It was the total opposite of how I was feeling. I did not like that someone thought I would not be able to recover. I did not feel guilt. I did not feel shame. I felt free. I felt . . . thankful.

    Donna also had guarded hope that the WPD would someday find her attacker, and that she