CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
It took days for Leni to speak again, but I could often hear her sobbing into her pillow. I was sick with grief for her. I could not get the image of Wes r****g Leni out of my mind. When I lay in bed, I saw it happen over and over again. I could feel his hands on me, too. I knew I was also vulnerable and able to be overpowered by someone as ruthless as Wes.
I could not change the brutal events of that night, and I did not know how to help Leni heal. No matter how many times I pleaded with her to let me go to the police, she refused. "They'll help me today, but they'll have me arrested tomorrow," was her only response.
After Wes attacked Leni, I did not want to leave her alone to go to work, but she dismissed my protests and insisted it was necessary to avoid the ine
