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"Two True Loves"
By: Jade Lightning, a.k.a. Inuyashas-hanyougirl
Chapter 8: The Reality Sets In

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   Everything seemed so rushed that early afternoon.  Bill and Joey arrived at the hospital long after Camille’s ambulance did, and after Bill made sure Joey got to where he needed to be so his broken nose could be treated, he spent the better part of his first hour there just trying to find her.  He asked every doctor or nurse he ran into where Camille Willshire was being treated, begging and pleading with them to tell him as tears tried to fill his eyes again.

   Finally, he was sent to the waiting room for emergency room patients.  He was shocked to find he was the only one there waiting for her.  He expected to find her parents already there, frantic and scared; so much was he expecting it that he had already thought out how he would introduce himself and explain to them what happened to their little girl.

   As he sat in the waiting room, trying to block out the sound of sirens and assorted panicked cries coming from both patients and hospital staff alike, Bill thought about a lot of things.  Camille being raped still had him shocked so badly he couldn’t process the idea yet.  He also couldn’t deal with his rage towards Jeff because his concern for Camille extinguished it for the moment.  Having to find something to think about wasn’t difficult, for he again thought about the fact that he was alone.

   His head hung low; he fingered his keys in his hands, staring blankly at the floor at his feet, ignorant of the blood stains on his letterman jacket sleeve where Joey had grabbed him, and at relative peace with this painfully numb feeling that paralyzed all but his fingers, his blinking eyes, his breathing, and his shattered heart.  He began to focus his thoughts on Camille’s parents.

   He had known her since they met on that first day of kindergarten, and after all of those years, years that included regular visits to Joey’s house, which was right across the street from Camille’s house, he couldn’t once recall meeting her parents.  He couldn’t even remember her mentioning them.

   She never had birthday parties, save the one her class would have for her every year, which Bill thought was strange, especially with the attitude the boys had towards her in their later years of grade school.  They could imagine her running home and into the arms of two loving parents who would do anything for their precious princess.  They entered her into beauty pageants didn’t they?

   “No, wait…Katrina’s parents did that.  Katrina never liked the idea of beauty pageants, but Camille did, so they entered her as legal guardians,” Bill thought to himself.  His mouth hung open slightly, and he could feel his teeth beginning to dry out and hurt him as he breathed.  Half closing his eyes, he felt his head hurt as he was bothered by this problem.  He had known Camille for nearly eleven years, and never once had he met her parents.  Then again, he never had the chance to.

   She never brought her parents to school for award ceremonies.  She always looked less than cheerful around Mother’s Day.  It was as if she didn’t have the perfect parents Bill and the others envisioned her having.  He was her boyfriend, and now more than ever, this problem was beginning to bother him.

   And what was worse was they obviously weren’t at her house waiting for her to come home.  If they were, would Jeff have been able to rape her?

   It didn’t make sense, but it made Bill feel sick.

   He was absorbed by his thoughts enough that he didn’t notice Joey enter the room, his nose bandaged and braced so it could heal.  He ran up to where Bill sat and asked, “There you are!  It took forever to find you!  Is she alright?”

   When Bill didn’t answer him, Joey noticed how frozen he was as he sat there, staring blankly at the ground, mouth agape, his fingers moving his keys the only movement coming from him.  Joey sat down beside Bill and asked, “Hey…Bill, are you alright?  Have you heard anything?”

   Closing his mouth and taking a breath, Bill looked to Joey slowly and said, “I—I haven’t heard a thing,” his voice dry and broken.  He looked back to the floor and continued, “Do you realize what’s missing Joey?  …I was the first and only one here until you showed up.  Camille’s been beaten and raped, and her parents aren’t here.  I…I’ve realized that not a single soul even knows her parents.  She’s never mentioned them, and you’ve never seen them either have you?”

   Joey’s eyes widened.  “I’ve only been to her house to help with her cats, Starr and Shine, and every time I went over there, the house was empty.  Her house is so clean you’d think it was part of a showroom.  It doesn’t look lived in.  The only person I’ve seen enter and leave that house is Camille.  It’s like…she’s the only one there.”

   Bill’s eyes closed as he fought back the tears in them.  “Do you understand what I’m saying Joey?  I’ve never met her parents.  Anytime anything to do with parents is brought up at school she sorta brushes it off and keeps on going.  …Why…why wasn’t anyone waiting for her to come home that night?”  He looked to his friend, his keys falling from his weakening grasp as he opened his tear-filled eyes.  “It’s bad enough that I couldn’t save her Joey…but…there was nobody waiting for her to come home.  There was no father to look outside and notice a strange truck parked on the street.  There was no mother to wonder why Camille wasn’t home from Katrina’s yet.  Nobody was there to save her.”  His voice faltered as he looked to the floor, closing his eyes as tears dripped off his eyelashes, clenching his fists as he shook terribly.  “I could kill that bastard for hurting her.  Her parents should be here for her, but there’s no one…only you and me.  I’m the only one who can take of her…what can I do?  Somebody tell me…what can I do?” he whispered.

   He buried his face in his hands after this, his elbows resting on his knees as he bent over, too tired to bother to sit up straight.  Joey lowered his eyes, thinking about what Bill had just said, only not as heavily, as he was more concerned about both Camille, and his grieving friend.  Placing his hand on Bill’s back, he rubbed it gently and said, “It’s okay Bill…of course, I know you don’t think it is…and I guess right now it isn’t.  I think what we all want right now are some answers.  …I still can’t believe that Jeff raped her.  Ugh, and he was probably parked outside of my house too.”

   Bill shot up like a bullet, glaring at Joey.  “You fool!” Bill shouted, “Are you telling me that nobody in your family noticed that beaten up truck of his outside of your house?!  You could have stopped all of this you idiot!”

   “Wait a minute Bill!  Please!” Joey cried, backing away from his friend.  “We weren’t home on Saturday night!  Dad couldn’t take Mom out on Valentine’s Day because I was going to the dance and nobody could watch Olivia, so he took her out on Saturday.  I took Olivia over to Anna’s house.  It turns out that Anna has a little sister that is in Olivia’s class, so we spent the evening with her family.  I didn’t get home until nearly midnight, because Olivia got to spend the night over there, and my parents didn’t get home until much later.  I was already asleep when they did, and when I did get home, there was no truck there!  He had to have done it while we were gone!”

   The glare in his eyes subsided as Bill slowly sat back down, holding his head in his hands.  “I’m sorry Joey, really…I just…I need somebody to blame.  I—I love that girl with all of my heart, with…every fiber of my being, and he’s hurt her so terribly.  Not only did he beat her today, he violated and cut her when nobody was there to help her.  I just, I’m so angry, and confused, and…sick, I just…I don’t know what I’ll do.”

   Joey relaxed as Bill slowly sat back down, retreating to silence.  He wanted to comfort Bill somehow, but didn’t know what he could say.  Sitting back up, Joey again sat beside his friend and put an arm around Bill’s shoulders, half hugging him in an attempt to console him.  He could feel tears burning his eyes as everything that had happened swamped his mind, and though he would never feel the same extent of grief that tormented Bill, it hurt him nonetheless.

   Moments later, they heard someone call out their names in turn.  Looking up, Joey could see Peter running towards them.  Joey’s parents weren’t far behind, and Joey’s little sister Olivia was at their heels.

   “Joey!  Are you okay?” she cried.

   Rising to his feet, Joey rushed over to his family, where Olivia latched on to him with a tight embrace.  His mother did the same, only she hugged him a bit gentler, weeping as she saw the damage done to Joey’s face.

   “Oh my baby, are you alright?” she cried.

   Joey tried to hug them both at once.  He looked to his father and said, “It’s okay Mom, and I’m fine Olivia.  The idiot punched me when I tried to pull him off of Camille; that’s all.  The doctor said my nose will heal up in a couple of weeks.  I’ll be fine.”

   Joey’s mother pulled back for a moment to look at her son, her tears lessening, but not dissipating, as they now fell for more than just her son.  They remembered why they were here.  They remembered why it was that Joey was injured.  Unable to speak, his mother closed her eyes and rested her head on her son’s shoulder as she wept.

   His father shook his head and said, “That was brave and honorable of you son.  …I hope that rotten boy gets what he has coming to him.”

   “Poor Joey and Camille,” Olivia whimpered.  The eight-year-old was close to her big brother, and looked up to Camille as if she were an older sister.  Joey’s entire family, like Katrina’s, had grown close to Camille because of how close they lived together.  Finding out she had suffered this way was a bitter pill for any of them to be forced to swallow.

   While the Williamson family tried to deal with their collective grief, Peter made his way over to Bill, who hadn’t looked up or otherwise reacted to this gathering.  Taking Joey’s place, Peter sat down beside Bill and tried to comfort his friend.  Placing his hand on Bill’s shoulder, he said, “Your parents said they were coming Bill.  They should be here soon.  I only spoke to your mother for a moment…when I told her what happened, she sorta let out a cry and dropped the phone.  Your father said she was okay, but she sounded pretty shaken up.”

   Bill sat up straighter, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes, amazed at the amount of emotion coming from him.  He didn’t look at Peter, but instead tried to catch his breath.  His voice shaky and soft, deprived of breath to make it stronger, he whispered, “But don’t you see what’s wrong?  My parents, Joey’s parents, perhaps even your parents are reacting to this like it’s their daughter that’s been raped and attacked.  Hell, Katrina’s parents will probably grieve like this too.  But look at what’s wrong with this Peter.  Camille’s parents are not here.  Nobody knows anything about them.  Nobody knows how to reach them, or where they are, or even who they are.  The school said that Camille’s father lists Katrina’s parents as her legal guardians, which means they sign report cards and are responsible for her, but I doubt they know much more about him than any of us do.  This is…wrong.  Where the hell are they?”

   Peter’s eyes widened as he listened.  Bill only looked at him for a brief moment as he finished speaking, before returning his eyes to the floor, staring at his keys as they lay near his feet.  Peter held his arms, folded and pressed against his chest as he thought about what Bill said.  Unable to think of a reply, he too lowered his eyes and whispered, “That’s strange.  I’d think that at least her mother would be here by now.  But, you’re right.”

   As Peter was speaking, Joey and his family walked over to them, Joey sitting on Bill’s right side as his family sat down around them.  “I’ve never once seen her parents.  She never talks about them.  They never show up for award ceremonies.  They’re not even the ones responsible for entering her in pageants.  They never show up at her piano recitals.  Heck, Camille doesn’t even have a proper piano.  I hear she practices on a keyboard.  She always talks about needing to save money, like she has to buy everything for herself.  I remember one week she showed up and had no lunch money at all and would never tell us why,” Peter continued.  Looking to Joey, he finished, “Something’s not right, and I don’t like it.”

   Joey nodded, glancing at Bill with concern for his friend, before lowering his eyes like the rest of them.  Nobody wanted to speak; even little Olivia remained quiet.  The silence was only broken when the sound of Katrina’s voice rose over the chaotic noise of the ER.  School was out for the day, and finally she arrived with her parents in tow.

   Running to Peter, she embraced him and cried, “Oh Peter, is she alright?  Have you heard anything?”

   Peter shook his head sadly, his only reply, before hugging her to try and comfort her.  As he held her, Bill rose to his feet, his gaze locked on Katrina’s parents, who he knew had answers for him.

   “We haven’t heard a thing,” Bill whispered, his voice still frail, though his tears had dissipated.  Walking up to Mr. and Mrs. Bradford, he continued, “You know something that I don’t, and therefore troubles me.  Why aren’t her parents here?”

   Mr. Bradford blinked slowly and answered, “We don’t know.”

   “Don’t you dare say that to me!” Bill shouted, glaring at them angrily, startling everyone in the room.  His voice was suddenly strong again, terror flashing in his eyes as he stared them down, taller than both of them by several inches.  “I know you know something!  You’re the ones that entered Camille in all those pageants!  You bought her the keyboard and got her piano lessons!  You’re the ones who go to parent/teacher conferences and sign her report cards!  The school lists you as her legal guardians by order of her father!  Don’t you lie to me!  Where are they?!”

   At that same moment, Bill’s parents, Louis and Rose Hampton, arrived to join them.  Seeing his son shouting at the Bradfords, Mr. Hampton cried out, “Bill stop!  Don’t you shout at them like that!”

   He ran to his son’s side and took one of Bill’s arms, pulling him back and trying to calm him down.  Mrs. Hampton ran to Bill’s other side, tear stains on her face.  “Please,” she whimpered, “Don’t shout at them Bill.  What’s wrong?”

   Bill’s glare softened when he looked at his mother, but his anger didn’t disappear.  “These two are the ones responsible for Camille.  Her father put them in charge of her, and they have the nerve to tell me they don’t know where he or her mother is.  They’re freaking liars!  I demand to know!”

   “We’re sorry Bill, but we really don’t know,” Mrs. Bradford murmured.  Everyone looked to her as she clenched a pink handkerchief to her face, drying her eyes.  “You see, we’ve only seen her father on a couple of occasions.  We’ve never once seen her mother, and her father never spoke of having a wife.  The only times we’ve seen him were when we first moved to the neighborhood, and the few times we’ve needed him when something legal concerning Camille warrants his presence.  We barely know anything about him.  We don’t know what he does when he’s gone, or where he is at all.  He never leaves a cell phone number, and only responds to people through the mail.”

   Everyone looked shocked, but Bill appeared the most shaken.  “You’re joking…right?” Bill asked.

   Mr. Hampton looked to Mr. Bradford and said, “Maybe you should tell everyone what you know, because obviously, Mr. Willshire isn’t here, and perhaps, Mrs. Willshire’s no longer with us.  …That boy Jeff Mitchell is no longer a concern.  He’s confessed to everything and won’t have to stand trial.  However, Camille still needs help, and apparently, we’re all she has.”

   At that moment, Bill pulled away from his mother, sitting down in the nearest chair, holding his head as if it pained him dearly.  Mrs. Hampton went to sit beside her son, and Mr. Bradford replied, “Of course, we’ll tell you everything.  It shouldn’t take long…there isn’t much to tell.”

   “What’s going on?” a voice asked.  It was Peter’s mother, Mrs. Thomson, with her husband and younger son Jacob, only six-years-old, with her.  “Is everything alright?”

   Mrs. Williamson looked to the Thomsons and said, “Mr. Bradford is going to tell us what he knows about Mr. Willshire, who as you can see isn’t here.  It’s bothered me over the years that we’ve never once seen her parents, and the fact that they’re not here now bothers me even more.”

   As the Thomsons got comfortable, Mr. Bradford shook his head and said, “Stop referring to them as ‘they’ if you will.  Linda and I have only met her father, and when I asked if he was married, he simply told me his wife was no longer with him.  Whether that means by divorce or death, I don’t know.  Perhaps Camille does.”  He paused, then added, “Like I said, there isn’t much to tell.  When Linda and I moved here, the girls were three years old.  The old owners of the house mentioned we had a neighbor eager to meet us.  It was Mr. Willshire.  He said he was a war veteran and was injured in combat.  He said he was legally disabled, and thus held down no job, but had a young daughter, the same age as our little Katrina.  Again, I asked about his wife, and he simply said, ‘She’s no longer with me.’  He later used this when asking if Linda and I would be Camille’s legal guardians, saying that Camille no longer had a mother.  I still wonder if this means Mrs. Willshire is dead, or was stripped of parental rights for whatever reason.”

   “Why on earth would he need you to look after her like that?” Mr. Hampton asked, “I’d say if he was disabled and living off of the government he would have plenty of time to look after her.”

   Mrs. Bradford answered, “That’s what we thought, but apparently he had plenty else he could be doing.  He told us that for certain reasons he was required to travel for weeks at a time, and ideally could only come home once a month to pay bills and spend a little time with his daughter.  He told us the former owners of our home looked after her in this way, and because he wasn’t well acquainted with anyone else in the neighborhood, he was hoping we could do this.  He offered to pay us for our trouble, and he did at first.”

   “But over the years, as Camille grew up, she began to spend more time at her own house.  We assumed this meant that her father was at home again, but still he would leave us notes asking us to help Camille when she needed her driver’s license, and anything else that needed parental permission.  We’d sign permission slips for field trips, enter her in those beauty pageants, we even bought her a keyboard when she started playing piano.  We held her close to our hearts, like a second daughter, and would do anything for her even now.  It didn’t bother us when her father contacted us less and less, leaving Camille to her own devices, and only talking to us, again, if we needed to sign for something, nor did it concern us when he stopped paying us when she was nine years old,” Mr. Bradford explained.

   Mrs. Williamson looked to everyone and said, “I remember when Mr. Willshire moved into the neighborhood.  I spoke to him only once.  He seemed eager to leave Camille with us, but never got around to asking when he found out we both worked and needed my parents to look after Joey.  That seemed to upset him.  It was as if he simply had to find somewhere to leave her so he could get back to his business.”

   “What changed when Camille turned nine?” Mrs. Hampton asked.

   Mrs. Bradford rubbed her hands together as she replied, “She started spending more time at home.  She seemed less inclined to stay with us, and never said why.  The money stopped coming too.  Camille stopped coming over to eat with us, and we assumed her father had started to spend time at home.  We only saw him one more time after that.  He brought his lawyer with him and signed over as many rights to us as he could, just enough so that we had enough control, but that he wouldn’t lose parental rights to Camille.  This really bothered us, but he never told us why he was doing this.  We haven’t seen him since then.  From the way you boys and Katrina have made it sound, her father is never around at all anymore, and because Camille can look after herself and get rides from her friends, or even take the bus, she doesn’t need him anymore anyway.  He most likely only comes home to pay the bills and give her grocery money.  We haven’t heard from him in over a year, and he doesn’t leave phone numbers, fax numbers, or e-mail.”

   Mr. Thomson, who worked for a law office, had his eyes closed and his hand cupped to his chin in deep thought.  “It makes sense,” he said.

   Everyone looked to him, puzzled.  He opened his eyes and replied, “It makes sense that he would sign over as many right as possible, but keep just enough to have parental rights over Camille.  He wants her to be a liability.  You see, the money he gets for being disabled is high enough, especially since he’s a war veteran.  However, having a dependent child makes that amount go up considerably, especially if you’re the only parent.  Because Camille’s mother is not around, either by death or having her rights to Camille taken away, he gets more money than he would if he was still married.  My theory is that he doesn’t want to have to worry with Camille so he can do as he pleases, but wants to keep her around so he gets more money.  However, once she turns eighteen she’ll have the opportunity to leave him.  And yet…”

   A grim look came to Mr. Thomson’s eyes.  “And yet…what?” Bill asked, his voice shaky.

   Looking up, Mr. Thomson continued, “If Camille has nowhere to go, and she remains dependent on him, he’ll continue to get the money.  Even if she goes to college, which I doubt she can do, as long as she’s living with him he’ll get the money.  I think he won’t be eager to let her go.  He sounds manipulative and greedy.  I doubt he can hang on to her forever in this way, but my point here is, he doesn’t sound that concerned about Camille’s welfare.  Unless he were to get a phone call saying she’s on her death bed, he won’t show up.  Even though she’s been hurt as badly as she has, he won’t come, and he’ll expect those of us who do love her to pick up the slack.  Camille’s nothing but a source of income in his eyes.  Heaven knows what he spends it on when he’s gone all that time.  He could be buying alcohol, narcotics…Lord knows what, while Camille has to go without.”

   Mr. Thomson then looked to Bill and his parents and said, “I don’t think you’ll be seeing him any time soon Bill.  Although, he might be quite pleased to find out his investment in Camille has paid off.  She’s being courted by the son of the richest family in town, the only son and heir to a vast fortune.  Depending on how devious he is, it might be worth his while to milk your relationship with her for all it is worth.  I don’t think he’s somebody you’ll want to meet any time soon.  I’ve dealt with his type in court before; they’re always easy to be brought to justice, but only after their cruelty and manipulation has been exposed.”

   The color in Bill’s face was almost gone.  He gazed at Mr. Thomson for only a moment before laying his head on his mother’s shoulder, tears falling from her eyes again.  As Mrs. Hampton tried to comfort her son, Mr. Hampton, who remained straight-faced as anger flickered in his eyes, looked up and said, “He’ll be dealt with Harry.  This thief will get what’s coming to him.  However, until then, we’ll all be taking care of Camille, in whatever way we can.”

   Bill looked up and at his father, tears staining his face.  Mr. Hampton looked at his son and tried to smile to comfort him.  Looking back to the group he continued, “Although I’d beg that you let Rose, Bill and I have more time with her at first.  Apparently we’re the only parents that don’t know her well yet.  That’s all going to change.”

   “Dad…,” Bill whispered.

   “It’s alright son,” Mr. Hampton said.  Looking to Mr. Thomson, he asked, “Harry, if it’s as easy as you say to take criminals like him down, am I right in assuming you’ll take this one on?”

   Mr. Thomson nodded and said, “Of course, however, I’m going to need plenty of evidence to get this guy taken down.  Because he’s signed over most of his rights to the Bradfords, they’ll be instrumental in taking him down.  We also have to gather evidence that supports the idea that he’s actually keeping Camille around for that purpose.  It would be even better if we could find evidence of what he’s spending that money on while his daughter goes without.”

   Mr. Williamson, who worked at a local bank, replied, “The bank can see what purchases he’s made with his bank card and checks, but that’s only a small start.  Anything he’s bought with cash or a credit card is beyond us.”

   “It’s a start,” Mr. Bradford said.  He paused, then replied, “In the end, it’ll be Camille who tells us what we need to know.”

   “The poor child,” Mrs. Williamson murmured.

   The entire room fell silent.  The Williamsons and the Thomsons tried to soothe their younger children; The Bradfords glanced at each other sadly; Peter still held Katrina and tried to soothe her, as well as himself.  Joey looked to Bill briefly, before gazing at the clock on the wall, which ticked on into the afternoon.  Bill rested his head on his mother’s shoulder, leaning on her unlike he had in years, exhausted from grief and crying, wanting to see Camille so the pain would end.  Mr. Hampton put his arm around his wife and son, trying to take in this deep well of feelings he felt for a young girl he only knew through the love for her in his son’s heart.

    The group of families waited to hear something from one of the doctors, and yet no news came until nearly five ‘o’ clock that evening.  A nurse entered the waiting room, startled at first to see all four families gathered together as they waited for news on Camille’s condition, but it was heart-warming at the same time.  Finally, she looked at her clipboard and asked, “Are the Bradfords here by any chance?”

   Bill raised his head, blinking his eyes as he tried to wake up from a light sleep as he had rested his head on his mother’s shoulder.  His eyes along with the others were drawn to this nurse who now stood before them.  Mr. Bradford stood up and said, “Yes, my wife and I are here.  Everyone else…,” he said as he looked around, “This young man is Camille’s boyfriend, and he’s probably closer to her than any of us are,” he said, extending his hand to Bill.

   A tear fell from Bill’s eyes as he sat up, closing them again to suppress anymore.

   “The rest of them are Camille’s friends, including my daughter, her boyfriend, and the son of our neighbor,” Mr. Bradford continued, “We are all concerned parents.  We’re here for Camille, and our children.”

   The nurse smiled weakly, nodding in reply as she answered, “I’m glad to hear it…she’ll need your support.”

   Bill frowned as he stood up.  “Please, don’t say that.  Please tell me she’s alright!” he cried.

   “Please relax,” the nurse replied, “Let me explain.”  Bill slowly eased down, again leaning on his mother for support.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what the nurse had to say.

   Continuing, the nurse said, “Camille’s escaped any serious injury.  However, for the time being she’s very anemic, and to make the situation worse she has low iron.”

   Letting out a gasp, Mrs. Bradford said, “Her father told us she was born with low iron.  It’s a condition she’s always had.  That can’t be good especially now.”

   “She’ll recover,” the nurse continued, “She’ll just be rather weak until she starts to build up red blood cells again.  Thankfully she didn’t suffer any severe trauma from the beating…although, the doctors began to wonder just how much more she could have taken.  Some of the bone in her face was cracked, but there won’t be any permanent disfigurement.  She’s pretty badly bruised, and we’re pretty certain she’s in a fair amount of pain, and will be for a few days.  It could be comparable to what she suffered from the rape.  The scars from the cuts are still visible…he damaged her pretty badly then.  We don’t think she’s had enough time to recover from that, despite how well she may have been feeling.”

   When the nurse stopped speaking, Mr. Hampton looked to her and said, “Is that all?  What’s happening to her now?”

   After a moment, the nurse let out a sigh and said, “After seeing how close you are to all of her I wish I could say it was.”

   Bill sat up again, the color in his face still gone as he cried, “Please…what’s wrong?  What else has that bastard done to her?”

   “Shh,” Mrs. Hampton said, trying to soothe her son, “It’s alright Bill.”

   The nurse lowered her eyes and said, “I wish it was.”  She paused, and then said, “While we were treating her, we discovered something…we don’t know if Camille knew about it or not, but considering none of you have brought it up, I’ll assume she didn’t, or you would have known.”

   “Please,” Bill said, his voice failing, “Please tell me.”

   “Well,” the nurse murmured, looking to all of the saddened and concerned eyes that gazed at her.  “Your name is Bill right?  …Well, Bill, and all of you, we found out that Camille…she’s pregnant.”

   A collective gasp followed the nurse’s words.  The four mothers in the group exchanged looks of horror; the four fathers did the same but with more of a look dread; Olivia and Jacob exchanged glances, not understanding the full depth of the problem, not even one-hundred percent sure of what being pregnant meant.  Katrina let out a cry as she turned to Peter and wept as he held her.  Peter and Joey could only gaze at each other in disbelief, almost unwilling to look and see how Bill had reacted.

   Finally they looked to where Bill was sitting.  He had sat up straight, and appeared frozen, the look of concern and worry still clear on his face.  He did not recover from the shock it seemed, sitting there staring blankly at his hands.  Any pain he felt for not protecting Camille must have doubled with the nurse’s words.  And yet, at the same time, he closed his eyes slowly, taking heavy breaths, as if contemplating what he should and had to do.

   Everyone watched him, holding their breath, as if his next move was something they simply could not miss.  Mrs. Hampton placed her hand on her son’s shoulder, causing him to look up at her.  “William…are you alright son?”

   A single tear rolled down Bill’s face as his mother called him by his true name, and yet he didn’t wipe it away, nor did he answer her.  Instead, he rose to his feet, and looking to the nurse he asked, “When…can I see her?  I—I can understand if there are rules, but…I need to know that she’s alright, even if it’s just to watch her sleep.  Just tell me when I can see her, please.”

   Nobody dared make a noise or move, save the nurse who glanced at the Bradfords, who stood near her.  At last, Mr. Bradford said, “If anyone can go back there,” he turned to Bill and continued, “It should be Bill.  He can comfort her more than any of us can.”

   Bill, who suddenly felt horrible for how he yelled at the Bradfords earlier, could only nod his head gently in gratitude, before looking back to the nurse.  She managed a smile, before giving her own nod to Bill and saying, “Come with me.  She’s not in ICU or anything, but we don’t want everyone in there until she’s had a chance to wake up and tell us how she’s feeling.”

   “That’s perfectly understandable,” Mr. Hampton said.

   Mrs. Hampton watched as her son followed the nurse.  “We’ll be right here Bill,” she said as he left.

   He didn’t answer her, but did look back at her for a brief moment.  He half-nodded as he walked away, returning his attention to the hallway before him.  He tried to stay as close to the nurse as he could, less than comfortable with hospitals, frustrated that a silly fear like it could still find a way to bother him.

   It didn’t matter; he was there, and Camille needed him.

   “We’re here,” the nurse said, rousing Bill from his thoughts.

   He stopped walking.  He couldn’t see into the room, though the door was cracked, but noticed that the nurse looked like she was waiting for him to open the door.  Slowly he approached it, and with his hand he gently pushed the door open.  He could see the bed come into view, with Camille almost curled up on it as she slept.  It wasn’t as horrible as he envisioned.  She had some IVs, but it wasn’t so bad.  Still, he cringed, wondering how much pain she was in, wondering how much she had to go without because of her neglectful father…wondering what would happen to her now that she was…

   “What are you going to do?” the nurse asked.

   Bill looked at her.  “What do you mean?”

   “Now that she’s pregnant,” the nurse responded with a shrug, “So much is going to change now.  I just wondered…,”

   “If I’m going to abandon her?” Bill offered, looking at her with hurt eyes.  He half glared at her, almost as if he was offended and floored that this woman even suggested such a thing.  Still, his expression relaxed as he let out a sigh, looking in at Camille once more.  “It’s okay…it’s to be expected that boyfriends today will abandon their girlfriends when they need them most.  Boyfriends leave girlfriends because of pregnancy all of the time, and nine times out of ten, it’s their child!  I guess I can’t say I’m surprised you’d ask me of this.”

   Bill took two steps into the room but stopped.  He looked back to the nurse and said, “But you need to understand who I am.  I’ve loved Camille for years now.  I’ve been her friend since our first day of kindergarten.  This girl…I didn’t simply imagine us at the Junior or Senior proms; Camille, I dreamt of us getting married…having children…”  His voice faded as he spoke, feeling small and vulnerable revealing the depths of his heart to this stranger.  However, taking a breath, he bid the strength return to his voice so he could finish.  “I won’t be leaving her any time soon.  I wanted to be with her forever, and this won’t change that.  …Things are just getting started faster than I thought they would.  I’ll be with her until the end…and I won’t let anything, or anyone, break us apart.”

   He said no more as he walked into the room.  The nurse watched as he walked to Camille’s bedside, looking at her for a brief moment before pulling a chair to the side of the bed.  He took one of her hands in his own and stroked it gently, gazing at her face.  The nurse could see a tear trying to break free of his eyes, and she was sure it would, but instead of waiting for it, she turned to walk back to the waiting room.  She had no doubt in her mind anymore of how much he loved her.  So sure of it she was, she knew that his tears couldn’t begin to illustrate it as well as he had just done for her with those few, but precious words.

   Love like that was rare, and yet only time would tell if it survived the tests before it.  But the nurse had a good feeling about the young couple.  Contrary to what Bill said, he and Camille were one couple you simply could not compare to the rest, and she, and others that would follow, knew that they would see it through to the end, no matter what stood in their way.

Description
"Two True Loves"
By: Jade Lightning, a.k.a. Inuyashas-hanyougirl
Chapter 8: The Reality Sets In

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   Everything seemed so rushed that early afternoon.  Bill and Joey arrived at the hospital long after Camille’s ambulance did, and after Bill made sure Joey got to where he needed to be so his broken nose could be treated, he spent the better part of his first hour there just trying to find her.  He asked every doctor or nurse he ran into where Camille Willshire was being treated, begging and pleading with them to tell him as tears tried to fill his eyes again.

   Finally, he was sent to the waiting room for emergency room patients.  He was shocked to find he was the only one there waiting for her.  He expected to find her parents already there, frantic and scared; so much was he expecting it that he had already thought out how he would introduce himself and explain to them what happened to their little girl.

   As he sat in the waiting room, trying to block out the sound of sirens and assorted panicked cries coming from both patients and hospital staff alike, Bill thought about a lot of things.  Camille being raped still had him shocked so badly he couldn’t process the idea yet.  He also couldn’t deal with his rage towards Jeff because his concern for Camille extinguished it for the moment.  Having to find something to think about wasn’t difficult, for he again thought about the fact that he was alone.

   His head hung low; he fingered his keys in his hands, staring blankly at the floor at his feet, ignorant of the blood stains on his letterman jacket sleeve where Joey had grabbed him, and at relative peace with this painfully numb feeling that paralyzed all but his fingers, his blinking eyes, his breathing, and his shattered heart.  He began to focus his thoughts on Camille’s parents.

   He had known her since they met on that first day of kindergarten, and after all of those years, years that included regular visits to Joey’s house, which was right across the street from Camille’s house, he couldn’t once recall meeting her parents.  He couldn’t even remember her mentioning them.

   She never had birthday parties, save the one her class would have for her every year, which Bill thought was strange, especially with the attitude the boys had towards her in their later years of grade school.  They could imagine her running home and into the arms of two loving parents who would do anything for their precious princess.  They entered her into beauty pageants didn’t they?

   “No, wait…Katrina’s parents did that.  Katrina never liked the idea of beauty pageants, but Camille did, so they entered her as legal guardians,” Bill thought to himself.  His mouth hung open slightly, and he could feel his teeth beginning to dry out and hurt him as he breathed.  Half closing his eyes, he felt his head hurt as he was bothered by this problem.  He had known Camille for nearly eleven years, and never once had he met her parents.  Then again, he never had the chance to.

   She never brought her parents to school for award ceremonies.  She always looked less than cheerful around Mother’s Day.  It was as if she didn’t have the perfect parents Bill and the others envisioned her having.  He was her boyfriend, and now more than ever, this problem was beginning to bother him.

   And what was worse was they obviously weren’t at her house waiting for her to come home.  If they were, would Jeff have been able to rape her?

   It didn’t make sense, but it made Bill feel sick.

   He was absorbed by his thoughts enough that he didn’t notice Joey enter the room, his nose bandaged and braced so it could heal.  He ran up to where Bill sat and asked, “There you are!  It took forever to find you!  Is she alright?”

   When Bill didn’t answer him, Joey noticed how frozen he was as he sat there, staring blankly at the ground, mouth agape, his fingers moving his keys the only movement coming from him.  Joey sat down beside Bill and asked, “Hey…Bill, are you alright?  Have you heard anything?”

   Closing his mouth and taking a breath, Bill looked to Joey slowly and said, “I—I haven’t heard a thing,” his voice dry and broken.  He looked back to the floor and continued, “Do you realize what’s missing Joey?  …I was the first and only one here until you showed up.  Camille’s been beaten and raped, and her parents aren’t here.  I…I’ve realized that not a single soul even knows her parents.  She’s never mentioned them, and you’ve never seen them either have you?”

   Joey’s eyes widened.  “I’ve only been to her house to help with her cats, Starr and Shine, and every time I went over there, the house was empty.  Her house is so clean you’d think it was part of a showroom.  It doesn’t look lived in.  The only person I’ve seen enter and leave that house is Camille.  It’s like…she’s the only one there.”

   Bill’s eyes closed as he fought back the tears in them.  “Do you understand what I’m saying Joey?  I’ve never met her parents.  Anytime anything to do with parents is brought up at school she sorta brushes it off and keeps on going.  …Why…why wasn’t anyone waiting for her to come home that night?”  He looked to his friend, his keys falling from his weakening grasp as he opened his tear-filled eyes.  “It’s bad enough that I couldn’t save her Joey…but…there was nobody waiting for her to come home.  There was no father to look outside and notice a strange truck parked on the street.  There was no mother to wonder why Camille wasn’t home from Katrina’s yet.  Nobody was there to save her.”  His voice faltered as he looked to the floor, closing his eyes as tears dripped off his eyelashes, clenching his fists as he shook terribly.  “I could kill that bastard for hurting her.  Her parents should be here for her, but there’s no one…only you and me.  I’m the only one who can take of her…what can I do?  Somebody tell me…what can I do?” he whispered.

   He buried his face in his hands after this, his elbows resting on his knees as he bent over, too tired to bother to sit up straight.  Joey lowered his eyes, thinking about what Bill had just said, only not as heavily, as he was more concerned about both Camille, and his grieving friend.  Placing his hand on Bill’s back, he rubbed it gently and said, “It’s okay Bill…of course, I know you don’t think it is…and I guess right now it isn’t.  I think what we all want right now are some answers.  …I still can’t believe that Jeff raped her.  Ugh, and he was probably parked outside of my house too.”

   Bill shot up like a bullet, glaring at Joey.  “You fool!” Bill shouted, “Are you telling me that nobody in your family noticed that beaten up truck of his outside of your house?!  You could have stopped all of this you idiot!”

   “Wait a minute Bill!  Please!” Joey cried, backing away from his friend.  “We weren’t home on Saturday night!  Dad couldn’t take Mom out on Valentine’s Day because I was going to the dance and nobody could watch Olivia, so he took her out on Saturday.  I took Olivia over to Anna’s house.  It turns out that Anna has a little sister that is in Olivia’s class, so we spent the evening with her family.  I didn’t get home until nearly midnight, because Olivia got to spend the night over there, and my parents didn’t get home until much later.  I was already asleep when they did, and when I did get home, there was no truck there!  He had to have done it while we were gone!”

   The glare in his eyes subsided as Bill slowly sat back down, holding his head in his hands.  “I’m sorry Joey, really…I just…I need somebody to blame.  I—I love that girl with all of my heart, with…every fiber of my being, and he’s hurt her so terribly.  Not only did he beat her today, he violated and cut her when nobody was there to help her.  I just, I’m so angry, and confused, and…sick, I just…I don’t know what I’ll do.”

   Joey relaxed as Bill slowly sat back down, retreating to silence.  He wanted to comfort Bill somehow, but didn’t know what he could say.  Sitting back up, Joey again sat beside his friend and put an arm around Bill’s shoulders, half hugging him in an attempt to console him.  He could feel tears burning his eyes as everything that had happened swamped his mind, and though he would never feel the same extent of grief that tormented Bill, it hurt him nonetheless.

   Moments later, they heard someone call out their names in turn.  Looking up, Joey could see Peter running towards them.  Joey’s parents weren’t far behind, and Joey’s little sister Olivia was at their heels.

   “Joey!  Are you okay?” she cried.

   Rising to his feet, Joey rushed over to his family, where Olivia latched on to him with a tight embrace.  His mother did the same, only she hugged him a bit gentler, weeping as she saw the damage done to Joey’s face.

   “Oh my baby, are you alright?” she cried.

   Joey tried to hug them both at once.  He looked to his father and said, “It’s okay Mom, and I’m fine Olivia.  The idiot punched me when I tried to pull him off of Camille; that’s all.  The doctor said my nose will heal up in a couple of weeks.  I’ll be fine.”

   Joey’s mother pulled back for a moment to look at her son, her tears lessening, but not dissipating, as they now fell for more than just her son.  They remembered why they were here.  They remembered why it was that Joey was injured.  Unable to speak, his mother closed her eyes and rested her head on her son’s shoulder as she wept.

   His father shook his head and said, “That was brave and honorable of you son.  …I hope that rotten boy gets what he has coming to him.”

   “Poor Joey and Camille,” Olivia whimpered.  The eight-year-old was close to her big brother, and looked up to Camille as if she were an older sister.  Joey’s entire family, like Katrina’s, had grown close to Camille because of how close they lived together.  Finding out she had suffered this way was a bitter pill for any of them to be forced to swallow.

   While the Williamson family tried to deal with their collective grief, Peter made his way over to Bill, who hadn’t looked up or otherwise reacted to this gathering.  Taking Joey’s place, Peter sat down beside Bill and tried to comfort his friend.  Placing his hand on Bill’s shoulder, he said, “Your parents said they were coming Bill.  They should be here soon.  I only spoke to your mother for a moment…when I told her what happened, she sorta let out a cry and dropped the phone.  Your father said she was okay, but she sounded pretty shaken up.”

   Bill sat up straighter, trying to wipe the tears from his eyes, amazed at the amount of emotion coming from him.  He didn’t look at Peter, but instead tried to catch his breath.  His voice shaky and soft, deprived of breath to make it stronger, he whispered, “But don’t you see what’s wrong?  My parents, Joey’s parents, perhaps even your parents are reacting to this like it’s their daughter that’s been raped and attacked.  Hell, Katrina’s parents will probably grieve like this too.  But look at what’s wrong with this Peter.  Camille’s parents are not here.  Nobody knows anything about them.  Nobody knows how to reach them, or where they are, or even who they are.  The school said that Camille’s father lists Katrina’s parents as her legal guardians, which means they sign report cards and are responsible for her, but I doubt they know much more about him than any of us do.  This is…wrong.  Where the hell are they?”

   Peter’s eyes widened as he listened.  Bill only looked at him for a brief moment as he finished speaking, before returning his eyes to the floor, staring at his keys as they lay near his feet.  Peter held his arms, folded and pressed against his chest as he thought about what Bill said.  Unable to think of a reply, he too lowered his eyes and whispered, “That’s strange.  I’d think that at least her mother would be here by now.  But, you’re right.”

   As Peter was speaking, Joey and his family walked over to them, Joey sitting on Bill’s right side as his family sat down around them.  “I’ve never once seen her parents.  She never talks about them.  They never show up for award ceremonies.  They’re not even the ones responsible for entering her in pageants.  They never show up at her piano recitals.  Heck, Camille doesn’t even have a proper piano.  I hear she practices on a keyboard.  She always talks about needing to save money, like she has to buy everything for herself.  I remember one week she showed up and had no lunch money at all and would never tell us why,” Peter continued.  Looking to Joey, he finished, “Something’s not right, and I don’t like it.”

   Joey nodded, glancing at Bill with concern for his friend, before lowering his eyes like the rest of them.  Nobody wanted to speak; even little Olivia remained quiet.  The silence was only broken when the sound of Katrina’s voice rose over the chaotic noise of the ER.  School was out for the day, and finally she arrived with her parents in tow.

   Running to Peter, she embraced him and cried, “Oh Peter, is she alright?  Have you heard anything?”

   Peter shook his head sadly, his only reply, before hugging her to try and comfort her.  As he held her, Bill rose to his feet, his gaze locked on Katrina’s parents, who he knew had answers for him.

   “We haven’t heard a thing,” Bill whispered, his voice still frail, though his tears had dissipated.  Walking up to Mr. and Mrs. Bradford, he continued, “You know something that I don’t, and therefore troubles me.  Why aren’t her parents here?”

   Mr. Bradford blinked slowly and answered, “We don’t know.”

   “Don’t you dare say that to me!” Bill shouted, glaring at them angrily, startling everyone in the room.  His voice was suddenly strong again, terror flashing in his eyes as he stared them down, taller than both of them by several inches.  “I know you know something!  You’re the ones that entered Camille in all those pageants!  You bought her the keyboard and got her piano lessons!  You’re the ones who go to parent/teacher conferences and sign her report cards!  The school lists you as her legal guardians by order of her father!  Don’t you lie to me!  Where are they?!”

   At that same moment, Bill’s parents, Louis and Rose Hampton, arrived to join them.  Seeing his son shouting at the Bradfords, Mr. Hampton cried out, “Bill stop!  Don’t you shout at them like that!”

   He ran to his son’s side and took one of Bill’s arms, pulling him back and trying to calm him down.  Mrs. Hampton ran to Bill’s other side, tear stains on her face.  “Please,” she whimpered, “Don’t shout at them Bill.  What’s wrong?”

   Bill’s glare softened when he looked at his mother, but his anger didn’t disappear.  “These two are the ones responsible for Camille.  Her father put them in charge of her, and they have the nerve to tell me they don’t know where he or her mother is.  They’re freaking liars!  I demand to know!”

   “We’re sorry Bill, but we really don’t know,” Mrs. Bradford murmured.  Everyone looked to her as she clenched a pink handkerchief to her face, drying her eyes.  “You see, we’ve only seen her father on a couple of occasions.  We’ve never once seen her mother, and her father never spoke of having a wife.  The only times we’ve seen him were when we first moved to the neighborhood, and the few times we’ve needed him when something legal concerning Camille warrants his presence.  We barely know anything about him.  We don’t know what he does when he’s gone, or where he is at all.  He never leaves a cell phone number, and only responds to people through the mail.”

   Everyone looked shocked, but Bill appeared the most shaken.  “You’re joking…right?” Bill asked.

   Mr. Hampton looked to Mr. Bradford and said, “Maybe you should tell everyone what you know, because obviously, Mr. Willshire isn’t here, and perhaps, Mrs. Willshire’s no longer with us.  …That boy Jeff Mitchell is no longer a concern.  He’s confessed to everything and won’t have to stand trial.  However, Camille still needs help, and apparently, we’re all she has.”

   At that moment, Bill pulled away from his mother, sitting down in the nearest chair, holding his head as if it pained him dearly.  Mrs. Hampton went to sit beside her son, and Mr. Bradford replied, “Of course, we’ll tell you everything.  It shouldn’t take long…there isn’t much to tell.”

   “What’s going on?” a voice asked.  It was Peter’s mother, Mrs. Thomson, with her husband and younger son Jacob, only six-years-old, with her.  “Is everything alright?”

   Mrs. Williamson looked to the Thomsons and said, “Mr. Bradford is going to tell us what he knows about Mr. Willshire, who as you can see isn’t here.  It’s bothered me over the years that we’ve never once seen her parents, and the fact that they’re not here now bothers me even more.”

   As the Thomsons got comfortable, Mr. Bradford shook his head and said, “Stop referring to them as ‘they’ if you will.  Linda and I have only met her father, and when I asked if he was married, he simply told me his wife was no longer with him.  Whether that means by divorce or death, I don’t know.  Perhaps Camille does.”  He paused, then added, “Like I said, there isn’t much to tell.  When Linda and I moved here, the girls were three years old.  The old owners of the house mentioned we had a neighbor eager to meet us.  It was Mr. Willshire.  He said he was a war veteran and was injured in combat.  He said he was legally disabled, and thus held down no job, but had a young daughter, the same age as our little Katrina.  Again, I asked about his wife, and he simply said, ‘She’s no longer with me.’  He later used this when asking if Linda and I would be Camille’s legal guardians, saying that Camille no longer had a mother.  I still wonder if this means Mrs. Willshire is dead, or was stripped of parental rights for whatever reason.”

   “Why on earth would he need you to look after her like that?” Mr. Hampton asked, “I’d say if he was disabled and living off of the government he would have plenty of time to look after her.”

   Mrs. Bradford answered, “That’s what we thought, but apparently he had plenty else he could be doing.  He told us that for certain reasons he was required to travel for weeks at a time, and ideally could only come home once a month to pay bills and spend a little time with his daughter.  He told us the former owners of our home looked after her in this way, and because he wasn’t well acquainted with anyone else in the neighborhood, he was hoping we could do this.  He offered to pay us for our trouble, and he did at first.”

   “But over the years, as Camille grew up, she began to spend more time at her own house.  We assumed this meant that her father was at home again, but still he would leave us notes asking us to help Camille when she needed her driver’s license, and anything else that needed parental permission.  We’d sign permission slips for field trips, enter her in those beauty pageants, we even bought her a keyboard when she started playing piano.  We held her close to our hearts, like a second daughter, and would do anything for her even now.  It didn’t bother us when her father contacted us less and less, leaving Camille to her own devices, and only talking to us, again, if we needed to sign for something, nor did it concern us when he stopped paying us when she was nine years old,” Mr. Bradford explained.

   Mrs. Williamson looked to everyone and said, “I remember when Mr. Willshire moved into the neighborhood.  I spoke to him only once.  He seemed eager to leave Camille with us, but never got around to asking when he found out we both worked and needed my parents to look after Joey.  That seemed to upset him.  It was as if he simply had to find somewhere to leave her so he could get back to his business.”

   “What changed when Camille turned nine?” Mrs. Hampton asked.

   Mrs. Bradford rubbed her hands together as she replied, “She started spending more time at home.  She seemed less inclined to stay with us, and never said why.  The money stopped coming too.  Camille stopped coming over to eat with us, and we assumed her father had started to spend time at home.  We only saw him one more time after that.  He brought his lawyer with him and signed over as many rights to us as he could, just enough so that we had enough control, but that he wouldn’t lose parental rights to Camille.  This really bothered us, but he never told us why he was doing this.  We haven’t seen him since then.  From the way you boys and Katrina have made it sound, her father is never around at all anymore, and because Camille can look after herself and get rides from her friends, or even take the bus, she doesn’t need him anymore anyway.  He most likely only comes home to pay the bills and give her grocery money.  We haven’t heard from him in over a year, and he doesn’t leave phone numbers, fax numbers, or e-mail.”

   Mr. Thomson, who worked for a law office, had his eyes closed and his hand cupped to his chin in deep thought.  “It makes sense,” he said.

   Everyone looked to him, puzzled.  He opened his eyes and replied, “It makes sense that he would sign over as many right as possible, but keep just enough to have parental rights over Camille.  He wants her to be a liability.  You see, the money he gets for being disabled is high enough, especially since he’s a war veteran.  However, having a dependent child makes that amount go up considerably, especially if you’re the only parent.  Because Camille’s mother is not around, either by death or having her rights to Camille taken away, he gets more money than he would if he was still married.  My theory is that he doesn’t want to have to worry with Camille so he can do as he pleases, but wants to keep her around so he gets more money.  However, once she turns eighteen she’ll have the opportunity to leave him.  And yet…”

   A grim look came to Mr. Thomson’s eyes.  “And yet…what?” Bill asked, his voice shaky.

   Looking up, Mr. Thomson continued, “If Camille has nowhere to go, and she remains dependent on him, he’ll continue to get the money.  Even if she goes to college, which I doubt she can do, as long as she’s living with him he’ll get the money.  I think he won’t be eager to let her go.  He sounds manipulative and greedy.  I doubt he can hang on to her forever in this way, but my point here is, he doesn’t sound that concerned about Camille’s welfare.  Unless he were to get a phone call saying she’s on her death bed, he won’t show up.  Even though she’s been hurt as badly as she has, he won’t come, and he’ll expect those of us who do love her to pick up the slack.  Camille’s nothing but a source of income in his eyes.  Heaven knows what he spends it on when he’s gone all that time.  He could be buying alcohol, narcotics…Lord knows what, while Camille has to go without.”

   Mr. Thomson then looked to Bill and his parents and said, “I don’t think you’ll be seeing him any time soon Bill.  Although, he might be quite pleased to find out his investment in Camille has paid off.  She’s being courted by the son of the richest family in town, the only son and heir to a vast fortune.  Depending on how devious he is, it might be worth his while to milk your relationship with her for all it is worth.  I don’t think he’s somebody you’ll want to meet any time soon.  I’ve dealt with his type in court before; they’re always easy to be brought to justice, but only after their cruelty and manipulation has been exposed.”

   The color in Bill’s face was almost gone.  He gazed at Mr. Thomson for only a moment before laying his head on his mother’s shoulder, tears falling from her eyes again.  As Mrs. Hampton tried to comfort her son, Mr. Hampton, who remained straight-faced as anger flickered in his eyes, looked up and said, “He’ll be dealt with Harry.  This thief will get what’s coming to him.  However, until then, we’ll all be taking care of Camille, in whatever way we can.”

   Bill looked up and at his father, tears staining his face.  Mr. Hampton looked at his son and tried to smile to comfort him.  Looking back to the group he continued, “Although I’d beg that you let Rose, Bill and I have more time with her at first.  Apparently we’re the only parents that don’t know her well yet.  That’s all going to change.”

   “Dad…,” Bill whispered.

   “It’s alright son,” Mr. Hampton said.  Looking to Mr. Thomson, he asked, “Harry, if it’s as easy as you say to take criminals like him down, am I right in assuming you’ll take this one on?”

   Mr. Thomson nodded and said, “Of course, however, I’m going to need plenty of evidence to get this guy taken down.  Because he’s signed over most of his rights to the Bradfords, they’ll be instrumental in taking him down.  We also have to gather evidence that supports the idea that he’s actually keeping Camille around for that purpose.  It would be even better if we could find evidence of what he’s spending that money on while his daughter goes without.”

   Mr. Williamson, who worked at a local bank, replied, “The bank can see what purchases he’s made with his bank card and checks, but that’s only a small start.  Anything he’s bought with cash or a credit card is beyond us.”

   “It’s a start,” Mr. Bradford said.  He paused, then replied, “In the end, it’ll be Camille who tells us what we need to know.”

   “The poor child,” Mrs. Williamson murmured.

   The entire room fell silent.  The Williamsons and the Thomsons tried to soothe their younger children; The Bradfords glanced at each other sadly; Peter still held Katrina and tried to soothe her, as well as himself.  Joey looked to Bill briefly, before gazing at the clock on the wall, which ticked on into the afternoon.  Bill rested his head on his mother’s shoulder, leaning on her unlike he had in years, exhausted from grief and crying, wanting to see Camille so the pain would end.  Mr. Hampton put his arm around his wife and son, trying to take in this deep well of feelings he felt for a young girl he only knew through the love for her in his son’s heart.

    The group of families waited to hear something from one of the doctors, and yet no news came until nearly five ‘o’ clock that evening.  A nurse entered the waiting room, startled at first to see all four families gathered together as they waited for news on Camille’s condition, but it was heart-warming at the same time.  Finally, she looked at her clipboard and asked, “Are the Bradfords here by any chance?”

   Bill raised his head, blinking his eyes as he tried to wake up from a light sleep as he had rested his head on his mother’s shoulder.  His eyes along with the others were drawn to this nurse who now stood before them.  Mr. Bradford stood up and said, “Yes, my wife and I are here.  Everyone else…,” he said as he looked around, “This young man is Camille’s boyfriend, and he’s probably closer to her than any of us are,” he said, extending his hand to Bill.

   A tear fell from Bill’s eyes as he sat up, closing them again to suppress anymore.

   “The rest of them are Camille’s friends, including my daughter, her boyfriend, and the son of our neighbor,” Mr. Bradford continued, “We are all concerned parents.  We’re here for Camille, and our children.”

   The nurse smiled weakly, nodding in reply as she answered, “I’m glad to hear it…she’ll need your support.”

   Bill frowned as he stood up.  “Please, don’t say that.  Please tell me she’s alright!” he cried.

   “Please relax,” the nurse replied, “Let me explain.”  Bill slowly eased down, again leaning on his mother for support.  He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear what the nurse had to say.

   Continuing, the nurse said, “Camille’s escaped any serious injury.  However, for the time being she’s very anemic, and to make the situation worse she has low iron.”

   Letting out a gasp, Mrs. Bradford said, “Her father told us she was born with low iron.  It’s a condition she’s always had.  That can’t be good especially now.”

   “She’ll recover,” the nurse continued, “She’ll just be rather weak until she starts to build up red blood cells again.  Thankfully she didn’t suffer any severe trauma from the beating…although, the doctors began to wonder just how much more she could have taken.  Some of the bone in her face was cracked, but there won’t be any permanent disfigurement.  She’s pretty badly bruised, and we’re pretty certain she’s in a fair amount of pain, and will be for a few days.  It could be comparable to what she suffered from the rape.  The scars from the cuts are still visible…he damaged her pretty badly then.  We don’t think she’s had enough time to recover from that, despite how well she may have been feeling.”

   When the nurse stopped speaking, Mr. Hampton looked to her and said, “Is that all?  What’s happening to her now?”

   After a moment, the nurse let out a sigh and said, “After seeing how close you are to all of her I wish I could say it was.”

   Bill sat up again, the color in his face still gone as he cried, “Please…what’s wrong?  What else has that bastard done to her?”

   “Shh,” Mrs. Hampton said, trying to soothe her son, “It’s alright Bill.”

   The nurse lowered her eyes and said, “I wish it was.”  She paused, and then said, “While we were treating her, we discovered something…we don’t know if Camille knew about it or not, but considering none of you have brought it up, I’ll assume she didn’t, or you would have known.”

   “Please,” Bill said, his voice failing, “Please tell me.”

   “Well,” the nurse murmured, looking to all of the saddened and concerned eyes that gazed at her.  “Your name is Bill right?  …Well, Bill, and all of you, we found out that Camille…she’s pregnant.”

   A collective gasp followed the nurse’s words.  The four mothers in the group exchanged looks of horror; the four fathers did the same but with more of a look dread; Olivia and Jacob exchanged glances, not understanding the full depth of the problem, not even one-hundred percent sure of what being pregnant meant.  Katrina let out a cry as she turned to Peter and wept as he held her.  Peter and Joey could only gaze at each other in disbelief, almost unwilling to look and see how Bill had reacted.

   Finally they looked to where Bill was sitting.  He had sat up straight, and appeared frozen, the look of concern and worry still clear on his face.  He did not recover from the shock it seemed, sitting there staring blankly at his hands.  Any pain he felt for not protecting Camille must have doubled with the nurse’s words.  And yet, at the same time, he closed his eyes slowly, taking heavy breaths, as if contemplating what he should and had to do.

   Everyone watched him, holding their breath, as if his next move was something they simply could not miss.  Mrs. Hampton placed her hand on her son’s shoulder, causing him to look up at her.  “William…are you alright son?”

   A single tear rolled down Bill’s face as his mother called him by his true name, and yet he didn’t wipe it away, nor did he answer her.  Instead, he rose to his feet, and looking to the nurse he asked, “When…can I see her?  I—I can understand if there are rules, but…I need to know that she’s alright, even if it’s just to watch her sleep.  Just tell me when I can see her, please.”

   Nobody dared make a noise or move, save the nurse who glanced at the Bradfords, who stood near her.  At last, Mr. Bradford said, “If anyone can go back there,” he turned to Bill and continued, “It should be Bill.  He can comfort her more than any of us can.”

   Bill, who suddenly felt horrible for how he yelled at the Bradfords earlier, could only nod his head gently in gratitude, before looking back to the nurse.  She managed a smile, before giving her own nod to Bill and saying, “Come with me.  She’s not in ICU or anything, but we don’t want everyone in there until she’s had a chance to wake up and tell us how she’s feeling.”

   “That’s perfectly understandable,” Mr. Hampton said.

   Mrs. Hampton watched as her son followed the nurse.  “We’ll be right here Bill,” she said as he left.

   He didn’t answer her, but did look back at her for a brief moment.  He half-nodded as he walked away, returning his attention to the hallway before him.  He tried to stay as close to the nurse as he could, less than comfortable with hospitals, frustrated that a silly fear like it could still find a way to bother him.

   It didn’t matter; he was there, and Camille needed him.

   “We’re here,” the nurse said, rousing Bill from his thoughts.

   He stopped walking.  He couldn’t see into the room, though the door was cracked, but noticed that the nurse looked like she was waiting for him to open the door.  Slowly he approached it, and with his hand he gently pushed the door open.  He could see the bed come into view, with Camille almost curled up on it as she slept.  It wasn’t as horrible as he envisioned.  She had some IVs, but it wasn’t so bad.  Still, he cringed, wondering how much pain she was in, wondering how much she had to go without because of her neglectful father…wondering what would happen to her now that she was…

   “What are you going to do?” the nurse asked.

   Bill looked at her.  “What do you mean?”

   “Now that she’s pregnant,” the nurse responded with a shrug, “So much is going to change now.  I just wondered…,”

   “If I’m going to abandon her?” Bill offered, looking at her with hurt eyes.  He half glared at her, almost as if he was offended and floored that this woman even suggested such a thing.  Still, his expression relaxed as he let out a sigh, looking in at Camille once more.  “It’s okay…it’s to be expected that boyfriends today will abandon their girlfriends when they need them most.  Boyfriends leave girlfriends because of pregnancy all of the time, and nine times out of ten, it’s their child!  I guess I can’t say I’m surprised you’d ask me of this.”

   Bill took two steps into the room but stopped.  He looked back to the nurse and said, “But you need to understand who I am.  I’ve loved Camille for years now.  I’ve been her friend since our first day of kindergarten.  This girl…I didn’t simply imagine us at the Junior or Senior proms; Camille, I dreamt of us getting married…having children…”  His voice faded as he spoke, feeling small and vulnerable revealing the depths of his heart to this stranger.  However, taking a breath, he bid the strength return to his voice so he could finish.  “I won’t be leaving her any time soon.  I wanted to be with her forever, and this won’t change that.  …Things are just getting started faster than I thought they would.  I’ll be with her until the end…and I won’t let anything, or anyone, break us apart.”

   He said no more as he walked into the room.  The nurse watched as he walked to Camille’s bedside, looking at her for a brief moment before pulling a chair to the side of the bed.  He took one of her hands in his own and stroked it gently, gazing at her face.  The nurse could see a tear trying to break free of his eyes, and she was sure it would, but instead of waiting for it, she turned to walk back to the waiting room.  She had no doubt in her mind anymore of how much he loved her.  So sure of it she was, she knew that his tears couldn’t begin to illustrate it as well as he had just done for her with those few, but precious words.

   Love like that was rare, and yet only time would tell if it survived the tests before it.  But the nurse had a good feeling about the young couple.  Contrary to what Bill said, he and Camille were one couple you simply could not compare to the rest, and she, and others that would follow, knew that they would see it through to the end, no matter what stood in their way.