Chapter 11

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It was a fairly short wait, surprisingly. I would have thought it would take longer to see the assistant district attorney, but Devin and I were in her office within the hour. She turned out to be nice. Not that fake or forced nice that you find all the time, but a genuine nice. It put me at ease.

Once we were all seated, she straightened everything sitting in front of her. "I have a few questions for you relating to the case against Mr. Josh Summet," she said as she folded her hands. "I understand you two had been dating before this incident?"

I nodded. "We had. I guess it was for almost two years."

She made a note. "I saw on your police report that he'd been violent with you before?"

"Yes. A few days or so before that happened, I had been in the hospital because of him."

She scribbled something else. "Okay. Now, what I need to know is do you have any evidence of these incidents or any witnesses to them." She once again folded her hands on top of her notepad. "I've been on many cases like yours. What makes them more challenging is the fact people like him do things when no one can see. So, what I'm asking is for someone that saw the bruises or marks he left, not so much a person that saw things happen."

"I have both," I said quietly.

"Pardon?"

I took a deep breath. "I have both," I said in a louder voice. "My roommate was always in my room and she saw stuff as it happened. My best friend and over half the student body saw the marks, but no one ever said anything to anyone. Everyone acted like nothing happened." My voice kept going down as I spoke and the last sentence was barely more than a whisper. I felt so humiliated that I was beginning to feel numb.

She nodded and picked up a pen. "What are the names?"

While I was speaking, I could hear the small tremor in my voice. This was real. It was all real. Why was it just now sinking in that I was really in her office, I was really saying names of my friends and classmates? I wasn't sure what I was supposed to be thinking or feeling at that point. Should I be happy about this? Should I be sad? Vindicated? Remorseful?

A hand touched mine. I glanced down and found Devin's long, dark fingers. My mind stopped in its tracks and switched focus. Instead of uncertainty, I felt his warmth. A pleasant type of nervousness replaced the bad. His thumb caressed the side of my hand and I swallowed. He was probably trying to reassure or relax me, but it only made every thought besides "he's holding my hand" leave my mind.

Maybe that was his intention in the first place, though: to get my mind off what was happening. If that was the case, it was a huge success.

Mrs. Herring looked at me expectantly since I had stopped speaking. "Anyone else?"

Anyone else? Oh, right. "No, that's everyone I know by name," I said.

She nodded, made a couple of notes, and then folded her hands again. "Are there any extra charges you'd like to press? Right now, he's only being charged with breaking and entering your apartment and assault. Before you suggest it, though, I just want to make sure you're aware of the laws around domestic violence in South Carolina. For you to pursue those charges, you would need to live with him in a house or apartment. You didn't even live in the same dorms from what I understand. That being the case, and considering who the judge will be, it's very likely you won't be able to press them, let alone get the conviction. Knowing that, do you still want to try to pursue them?"

I took a deep breath and glanced at Devin. He wasn't looking at me, but when he felt my gaze, he turned his head and smiled at me. His fingers squeezed my hand. I looked back at the lady. "Mrs. Herring, if you think there's a chance, I would like to try to pursue the charges. Actually, even if you don't think there is, I want to try."

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