Chapter 6 - MAYA’S INTERVIEWA child forensic interviewer spoke with Maya two days later.
Caleb and I watched from another room.
I wanted to sit beside her.
They told me no.
Good.
Children tell adults what they think adults need.
The interviewer asked:
“Tell me about the man.”
Maya squeezed a small foam ball.
“He stands by Grandma’s fence.”
“How many times did you see him?”
She thought.
“Four.”
Not every day.
“What did he do?”
“Looked.”
“At what?”
“The house.”
“Did he talk to you?”
“One time.”
“What did he say?”
Maya’s fingers stopped.
“He said, ‘Don’t tell Caleb I’m here.’”
Caleb went rigid beside me.
I turned.
The interviewer continued.
“What did you say?”
“I said Daddy?”
“He said what?”
“‘Your dad.’”
“Did he touch you?”
“No.”
“Did he threaten you?”
Maya shook her head.
“No.”
Important.
“Were you scared?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
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“He hid when Grandma came.”
That was enough for a seven-year-old.
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