Chapter 6 - Gigi says one sentence
A child-advocacy specialist spoke with Gigi.
Not because investigators expected a two-year-old to give sophisticated testimony.
Because child-focused protocols mattered.
I was not in the room during the limited interview.
Neither was Noah.
Gigi’s language was simple.
“Arthur hit.”
“Where?”
She touched cheek.
“Why?”
“Ribbon.”
“Did Mommy tell Arthur to hit?”
“No.”
“Did Grandma?”
Gigi stared.
No useful answer.
Good.
Nobody pushed.
Then the interviewer asked whether Arthur had ever hit her before.
“No.”
Grabbed?
“Hand.”
That caught attention.
When?
Hard to establish.
Gigi said:
“Cake before.”
Was that the same day?
Maybe.
Different cake?
Unknown.
At two, time is unreliable.
Investigators did not invent a second assault.
I later remembered one event from three months earlier.
At Easter, Arthur had taken a plastic egg from Gigi when she refused to give it to his friend’s child.
Gigi cried.
I thought he had only taken the toy.
Had he grabbed her wrist?
Probably.
Was it abusive?
I did not know.
No bruise.
No report.
No evidence.
May you like
That stayed background.
The birthday slap remained the provable event.
