Chapter 5: Scandal, Justice, and Redemption

He dashed out the door, glad to have something to do. I watched him go, grateful for his resilience.

I struggled to sit up, wanting to tell Dr. Perry everything. But he looked away, as if something was hard to say.

He fiddled with his stethoscope, avoiding my eyes. Something was off.

I asked:

"What’s wrong, Dr. Perry? Is there something you want to ask?"

Dr. Perry waved his hand and sighed:

He shook his head, lips pressed into a thin line. "Nothing, nothing. Just don’t go out alone anymore."

I sensed something was off. Was it just about the bike? Maybe he wouldn’t lend it to me again.

I studied his face, trying to read between the lines. There was a heaviness there I couldn’t quite name.

I smiled awkwardly. It was my fault for not bringing it back.

"I’ll be more careful next time. Dr. Perry, did you find anyone to rent the land?"

Dr. Perry replied as he packed up:

"There’s someone in town, works hard, not many in his family, but he’s been away these days."

I checked the date. It was already August—September meant school fees needed to be paid.

Time was running out. I felt the pressure mounting, every day a race against disaster.

"Dr. Perry, could I borrow some money from you?"

I told Dr. Perry about my plan to open a store, and how I went to the county yesterday and got robbed.

His eyes widened as I spoke, his jaw tightening with each word. When I finished, he was silent for a long moment.

Dr. Perry’s expression grew serious:

He stood up abruptly, grabbing his keys. "Come on, I’ll take you somewhere!"

I didn’t expect him to take me to the police station.

The building was small, the walls lined with faded wanted posters. The officer at the desk listened patiently as I told my story, taking notes in a battered notebook.

I recounted what happened, but I knew the chances of getting my money back were slim—there were no cameras out there.

Still, it felt good to be heard, to have someone take me seriously. For once, I wasn’t just a victim—I was fighting back.

But I was grateful Dr. Perry had taken me to report it.

His support meant more than words could say. I squeezed his hand, thanking him with a look.

On the way back, Dr. Perry said he’d have to discuss lending me that much money with his wife. If possible, he’d be happy to help.

I nodded, understanding the weight of the request. I promised to repay every penny.

I was deeply grateful. He was the light in our family’s darkest days.

His kindness was a reminder that not everyone in town was out to get us. Sometimes, hope came from the most unexpected places.

After we parted, I walked home alone. People usually just muttered when they saw me on the street, but today, there was something different in their eyes.

The stares lingered a little longer, the whispers a little louder. I felt exposed, like everyone knew my secrets.

I didn’t understand, but I didn’t think much of it.

I kept my head down, determined not to let their gossip get to me. I had bigger things to worry about.

Just as I reached the town entrance, I heard a fight not far away. I didn’t want to get involved, but then I heard Mom’s voice, shouting. My heart clenched. Then I heard Uncle yelling, too.

My blood ran cold. I recognized the panic in their voices, the edge of desperation. I dropped everything and ran.

I was sure it was them fighting.

I prayed I wasn’t too late, that no one would get hurt.

I didn’t dare run, afraid I’d faint again. Looking around, I grabbed a stick and hurried to the crowd.

My legs shook, but I forced myself forward. The stick felt heavy in my hands, but I gripped it tight, ready to do whatever it took.

"Get out of the way!"

I charged in with the stick. I saw Carter’s fat boy pulling Mom’s hair, and Uncle punching him in the stomach. Quite a scene, but not much harm done.

The crowd parted as I swung the stick, my voice booming over the chaos. For a moment, everyone froze.

Seeing this, my anger exploded. I waved the stick at the fat boy:

My vision blurred with rage. I didn’t care who saw—I would protect my family at any cost.

"Let go! If you don’t, I’ll beat you to a pulp!"

The fat boy had seen me go crazy before. When I shouted, he let go of Mom. With a shove, he pushed Uncle to the ground.

He scrambled back, eyes wide with fear. I glared at him, daring him to try anything else.

I quickly helped them up. Seeing they weren’t badly hurt, I asked:

My hands shook as I brushed dirt from their clothes. Relief flooded through me, but I kept my guard up.

"Why are you fighting?"

The fat boy sneered at me:

His words dripped with contempt, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

"You slut, everyone in town knows. You still have the nerve to show your face."

My head buzzed. Slut? Even though I grew up in the city, I knew what that meant.

The insult stung, sharper than any slap. I clenched my fists, willing myself not to cry.

Mom got even angrier:

Her voice was fierce, trembling with rage. She stepped forward, ready to fight for me.

"Eddie Carter! Shut up! Say that again and I’ll rip your mouth off!"

Uncle jumped up and yelled:

He was red-faced, fists balled, refusing to back down.

"You’re the slut! Your whole family are sluts!"