Lacey sat in her office comforting a traumatised Mrs Davis, allowing her to cry. She sat in front of her. Lacey had a feeling this lady was terrified of her husband more than the events that had transpired in the dorm room.
“Here, take a small sip.” Lacey softly instructed Nicki’s mother, handing her a glass of water.
Mrs Davis took the glass with shaking hands and began to sip the water obediently.
“Mrs Davis, I know this is really difficult for you, but I have to ask, does your husband hit Nicki or you often?” Lacey gently asked.
“My name is Cheryl.” Nicki’s mum replied, her voice small and weak.
“Cheryl, please tell us the truth in your own words. We can and we will help you and Nicki,” Lacey continued.
Cheryl could not find the words, shame washed over her, she had wanted to
