“You have a death wish?” Brad, her fraternal twin, asked looking at the emerald coloured eyes Emily.

     “What choice did I have? The women were defenceless, their kids terrified,” Emily said touching the bandage on her forehead. The bruise on her nose looked painful and her mascara did not disguise her black eye.

     “Those ICE brutes kill. Putting yourself in harm’s way, especially in your condition, was not only foolish but irresponsible,” Brad told her looking at her baby bump.

     Emily looked fondly at Brad. She knew that he always had her back. Once he kicked their father in his shin when he had slapped Emily for telling him to watch his language. Her father responded by using his belt on  Brad and spitting on Emily. Their abused mother watched not daring to protect them and later scolded them later for provoking their drunkard dad, the so-called elder at the New Harvest Church who demanded total obedience from his tradwife.

     “I’m going to upload the video. Let the world  see what thugs we have in law enforcement.”

     “What’s the point? We can’t sue them. They have immunity.”

     “So do nothing?

     “Do what you can do. Leave Earl. Before protecting those terrified Hispanics, protect yourself and your baby first.”

     “He’s the father of my baby,” Emily said patting her stomach.

     “A father just like our dad. Do you wish that on your baby?’

     “Earl’s a good man. He loses it with his boss at Amazon. So he takes it out on me. Just like dad took it out on Mom.  She told me that she married dad for better or for worse. I took the same vow. She didn’t believe in divorce neither do I.”

     “My boss and I see a lot of it. It’s called co-dependency. Her job as a divorce lawyer is to set her clients, the abused wives,  free.”

     “What God has put together, let no man, or woman, put asunder.”

     “We live in a civilized not in a tribal society where women depend on men for their survival. Our president is thrice married, and about a third of the marriages end up in divorce.”

     “Statistics doesn’t mean it’s right.”

     “Remember how we begged Mom to leave that monster. How are life would have been different. I needn’t have spent those good years of my life in therapy and rehab.”

     Tears filled Emily’s eyes as she remembered rescuing Brad from the homeless camp when he overdosed, and his failed suicide attempt.

          Emily wondered whether her yet to be born son would be fated to follow the footsteps of Brad. If she were honest with herself, she knew that Earl would be an abusive father. A violent man, Earl had been advised to retire when the LAPD was sued by one of his victims. His captain got him a job as a delivery driver for Amazon. Now Earl often returned home after his deliveries furious because he had to pee in a bottle. He would snort a line to deal with his anger and get drunk on some cheap whiskey.        

          “My boss  can help you. She’s kind and has helped scores of battered wives like you” Brad said.

          “Divorce is for celebrities and losers. My role model is Dolly Parton.”

          “Dolly would have divorced if she were married to a jerk like Earl. Remember, she told the king, no sharing  of the copyright of her marquee song when he demanded half ownership. Did not back down and he had to agree. She was not a poster girl for no divorce. She was a role model for everyone as a generous warm hearted woman who kept clear red lines, made sure everyone respected them, and put up with no shit.”

          Emily touched her baby bump again and felt her son kick. She shut her eyes and imagined a nursery where she nursed her baby on a rocking chair while she hummed a lullaby. The air was cool and the crib mobile with its collection of plastic giraffes, lions, eagles and bears gently swayed. Then the front door would open and Earl would burst in loudly swearing before going to the kitchen and pulling out a six pack. She shuddered. She remembered her mother looking shamefaced and helpless when her father slapped Brad around. That thought made her tremble.

     A ping alerted Brad to an incoming message. She opened her eyes to see Brad look at the screen of his phone.  He said, “Gotta go.”

     “Where? I thought you would be with me when Earl returns.”

     “Thought so too, but my boss wants to see me. A husband violated a restraining order and killed our client and one of her two children.”

     “Oh my God! How horrible!.”

     “Too common unfortunately. Drugs, guns and no impulse control. Welcome to just another day in America.”

     “What will you do?”

     “Protect the interests of the kid who survived. The kid was saved because the gun jammed and so a murder suicide was averted. A lot of paperwork. Finding next of kin. Shelter for her Berndoodle.”

     “How old is the kid?”

     “A girl. Five years.”

     Brad reached for his car keys lying on the table.”

     He touched Emily on her cheek. “Look after yourself kid. If Earl touches you again, I swear to God, I’ll kill him. When dad mauled Mom, I should have killed him. With Earl, I won’t make the same mistake.”

     As Brad reached the door, Emily cried, “Wait”.

     “What?” Brad said turning around to see Emily about to enter the powder room.

     Emily paused and examining her face on her compact. “I need to put some eyeshadow on my black eye.”

     Brad walked back and said, “Why? Don’t tell me you need to doll up for that bastard?”

     “No, not for Earl.”

     “Then?”

     “Not for Earl, not for our dad, but for Mom, for you, for me, for my son. I’m coming with you. Your boss has a new client.”