Naomi’s face hardened. “You stayed because you loved him and hoped he’d become who he pretended to be. That is not a crime. That is what abuse does.”
Later her grandmother, June Hartwell, called from Ohio.
“The world cheers when a woman survives a monster,” June said, “and the second she stands up too straight afterward, they accuse her of liking it. Don’t borrow guilt from people who weren’t in your kitchen.”
Then came the next strike. Gavin’s attorney filed emergency motions: entrapment, concealment, manipulation—and worst of all, an anticipatory custody petition over her unborn daughter.
He did not want the child.
He wanted leverage.
That was when fear made room for something harder.
Motherhood.
Evelyn called an emergency meeting. Benedict flew in. Martin arrived with files. Her attorney, Catherine Webb, spread documents across the dining table. FBI coordination was confirmed. Federal documentation was airtight. No inducement. No entrapment. Just evidence.
“Bring in my grandmother,” Evelyn said.
“As a witness?” Catherine asked.
“As artillery.”