She had listened to the first section of the preserved file through headphones.
Her expression had changed.
“Emily,” she said gently, “I need to ask whether you can tell us what happened tonight.
You can stop at any time.”
Emily looked at me.
I squeezed her hand.
“Your words.
Your choice.”
She nodded.
The prosecutor activated an audio recorder and stated the date, location, and names of those present.
Emily spoke quietly at first.
She said Preston had become angry when she told him she wanted to spend a few nights with me.
He took her phone from the bedroom dresser and accused her of embarrassing him.
When she tried to leave, he blocked the front door.
Margaret and Charles had arrived shortly afterward.
Instead of helping her, they told her to stop provoking their son.
“Margaret said wives don’t run home every time marriage becomes difficult,” Emily whispered.
“Charles said their family had a reputation to protect.”
The prosecutor asked what happened next.
Emily’s gaze dropped to the blanket.
“Preston grabbed my arms.
I tried to pull away.
Margaret slapped me.
When I screamed, Charles closed the curtains.”
My stomach turned, but I did not interrupt.
“They pushed me into the pantry,” Emily continued.
“Preston hit me when I tried to get past him.
I fell against a shelf.
They locked the door.”
“How did you call your mother?”
Emily looked toward the evidence bag.
“My watch.
Preston didn’t know it could make an emergency call without my phone.”
She had hidden her wrist beneath the torn fabric of her dress.
In the darkness, she pressed the emergency sequence I had shown her months earlier.
The call connected to me automatically.
Emily said she whispered as quickly as she could because Preston was standing outside the pantry.
Then he opened the door.
“He saw the watch light,” she said.
“He grabbed my wrist.
The call ended when he struck my arm against the doorframe.”
The prosecutor paused the interview.
“Did anyone take the watch from you?”
“No.
Margaret told Preston it was just a fitness tracker.
He believed her.”
For once, Margaret’s arrogance had protected the evidence she wanted destroyed.
Emily explained that the Whitmores drove her to the hospital only after she became disoriented and vomited.
During the ride, they rehearsed the story they expected her to tell: she had been drinking, she had fallen down the stairs, and she was confused.
But the hospital toxicology screen found no alcohol or drugs in her system.
There were no injuries on her legs consistent with falling down stairs.
There were fingerprints and bruises around both arms.
And the recording was still waiting.
The prosecutor finished the interview and stepped into the corridor.
I stayed with Emily until the doctor gave her medication for the pain.
When she finally slept, I walked outside.
