“Dad,” she said, calm enough to surprise herself, “you are on speaker.”
A beat passed.
Then another.
“With who?” he snapped.
Mallory looked at the officer holding the complaint.
“The police officers you sent to my house,” she said.
The line went silent.
That silence told the truth better than his voice had.
The older officer asked Mallory if she would be willing to provide copies of the messages and documentation.
She said yes.
Ethan stepped inside and made copies from the printer in their small office while Mallory sat on the edge of the couch, her body shaking now that the first wave of adrenaline had burned out.
The younger officer asked if she needed medical assistance.
Mallory almost laughed.
She had needed family assistance.
She had learned the difference.
“No,” she said. “I just need this documented.”
The older officer nodded.
“We can document that you provided these materials tonight,” he said. “And based on what we’ve seen, this does not appear to support the complaint as presented.”
