Chapter 4 - My cheek in the hotel mirror
At the hotel, I took photographs before washing my face.
Front.
Left profile.
Right profile.
Rebecca’s instruction.
Not because every argument needed evidence.
Because I had just been struck.
The redness across my cheek was clear.
No broken jaw.
No cut.
No dramatic black eye.
My ear rang slightly for an hour.
I called Rebecca.
She answered:
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Hotel.”
“Is Daniel there?”
“No.”
“Do you need medical care?”
“I don’t think so.”
“You were struck in the head. I’d prefer evaluation.”
I sighed.
“Fine.”
“Police?”
I hesitated.
That told her enough.
“Emily.”
“I don’t want him arrested at his mother’s birthday.”
“That is not the legal standard.”
“I know.”
“Do you want to report?”
I looked at myself.
“Yes.”
Good.
We did not call police to make a spectacle at Bellweather.
I went to an urgent care associated with Greenwich Hospital.
Exam.
Facial contusion.
No neurological deficit.
No imaging required based on symptoms and clinical assessment.
Then I gave a statement to police.
Daniel had slapped me.
One strike.
No weapon.
Then grabbed my wrist at the door.
Released after I told him.
Witnesses.
House security.
I mentioned Luis.
The officer asked:
“Are there cameras?”
“Yes.”
“Inside?”
“Some common areas. No audio everywhere.”
“Foyer?”
“Yes.”
There.
Daniel had forgotten about the security system because he had never managed it.
May you like
That irony did not make me happy.
Not then.
