Chapter 13 - The Interview With the Gray Bunny
The child advocacy center didn't look like any office I'd been in before. It was a converted house on the edge of town past the elementary school, with a front porch and a ramp and a sign that just said Center in plain blue letters. Inside the waiting room smelled like coffee and crayons. Lily sat on my lap in one of those low chairs and held her gray bunny against her chest. She'd brought it without me asking.
A woman came out and knelt so she was eye level with Lily. She had soft brown hair pulled back and wore a cardigan, no uniform, no badge.
"Hi Lily, I'm Karen," she said. "We have a cozy room with some toys and books. Would you like to come see it with your bunny? Your dad will watch on a little TV right next door."
Lily looked up at me. I nodded.
"It's okay, sweetheart," I said. "I'll be right here the whole time."
Karen didn't reach for her hand. She just stood and let Lily decide to follow. Lily slid down and walked with her, bunny tucked under her arm. I watched her pink dress disappear around the corner and my chest tightened so hard I had to sit forward and breathe.
They took me to a small observation room. It had a one-way window looking into the interview room and a monitor with sound. The interview room had a little table, two kid-sized chairs, a rug, and a shelf with books. One of them was a children's picture book with a bright cover. There was also a clear plastic cup of water on the table. I realized they'd set it there on purpose.
Karen sat sideways at the table, not across from Lily, and let Lily climb into the other chair herself. Lily put her bunny on the table first, then sat.
"Thanks for bringing your bunny," Karen said. "How old is your bunny?"
Lily whispered, "Three."
Karen smiled. "That's a good age. Is it okay if we talk a little while you hold him?"
Lily picked him back up. Her pink bows were a little crooked. I could see her breathing.
Karen didn't rush. She asked about school, about her favorite color, about what she liked to draw. Lily answered in one or two words. Then Karen said very gently, "Lily, can you tell me about bedtime at your house?"
Lily hugged the bunny tighter. She glanced at the picture book on the shelf.
"We read," she said.
"Who reads with you?"
"Daddy."
Karen nodded. "What did you tell Daddy the other night when you were in the big bed?"
Lily was quiet for a long time. On the monitor I could hear the soft hum of the air conditioner. My hands were clasped so tight my knuckles were white.
Lily pointed at the picture book, then at the plastic cup of water.
"He did it when Daddy was sleeping," she said. Her voice was small but clear. "He puts something in your water."
Karen didn't repeat it back as a question. She didn't lead.
"Can you tell me more about that, Lily?"
Lily held the bunny out a little, like she was showing him. "The person who comes. He comes when you're sleeping. I saw him."
"Where did you see him?"
Lily pointed toward the door of the interview room. "At the doors."
I had to turn away from the window for a second. I pressed my fist to my mouth and kept watching. I didn't make a sound. I thought about that night on the satin bedding when I'd been half asleep and she'd whispered that first line and I'd said "What person?" like I didn't understand. She'd been trying to tell me and I'd been slow. If I'd listened faster, if I'd believed her the first second instead of thinking it was a dream or a story from her book, maybe she wouldn't have had to carry it alone for weeks.
Karen stayed calm. "Thank you for telling me that, Lily. That was very brave. Was there anything else you wanted to say about the water?"
Lily shook her head and tucked the bunny back under her chin. "Don't drink it."
"Okay," Karen said. "We won't."
She let Lily play for a minute, let her flip through the picture book, and then she said Lily could go back to her dad. Lily stood up holding her bunny and walked to the door like she'd finished a task.
I met her in the hallway and picked her up. She didn't cry. She just put her head on my shoulder and I carried her back to the little waiting room.
The prosecutor met me there after. Her name was Diane Hayes and she wore a dark blazer and had a file with our case number on it. She asked if Lily could stay with the advocate and color while we talked, and I said yes.
In a small conference room she laid out what we had.
"Her statement is consistent," Diane said. "She didn't invent it. She pointed to the book and the glass without prompting and used her own words – when Daddy was sleeping. That lines up verbatim with what you reported she said that night, plus your video and the lab results on the glass. Together it's sufficient. We don't need her to do more than this."
I nodded. I couldn't speak right away.
"We'll file for a protective order today," she continued. "It'll keep Ray away from you and your house and Lily's school. No contact. We also have referrals for you – a counselor here who works with young kids, no pressure, just play-based, at your pace. And victim services can help with changing the locks, whatever you need at home."
"Thank you," I finally said. My voice was rough.
May you like
Diane closed the file. "You did right bringing her here and letting her talk on her terms. A lot of parents push. You didn't. She felt safe enough to say it herself."
When I walked back out, Lily was at the low table coloring with a box of crayons, her bunny sitting upright next to her like he was watching. She looked up and held out a purple crayon to me. I sat down beside her on that tiny chair and took it.
