Saving Justice

Chapter Fifteen

I don't know what has gotten into me. After talking to Belinda Hammington, the only thing I have in my mind right now is to go to the Griffins.

I called Natalie earlier, and she told me that their shift would end at around six in the evening. It's only a quarter to five, so I still have a lot of time to spare.

Getting nearer to the house, I dial Cole's number on my phone to give him a call. I can't just barge in their place. Even though I've lived there for quite some time, it's still not mine, to begin with. I need to show decency and respect to Cole and his family.

Fortunately, after a few rings, Cole finally answers his phone. "Hello, babe!" he greets me. "Sorry if I didn't answer right away. I'm in the middle of a discussion with my team."

The thought of disturbing him with his work makes me feel guilty. However, that doesn't stop me. "It's okay," I tell him. "I just want to inform you that I'm on my way to your house right now. That's fine, right?"

"Our house?" He sounds curious. "Why the sudden?"

"There's something I need to do."

"What?" I know I'm being difficult for him to understand, but I can't explain everything to him right now. "W-what's happening, Venice? Can't you wait for me? I'll get off work in twenty or thirty minutes. I can't drop our meeting right now, so I'll just finish it as quick as possible."

"Cole, I'm fine. I can go there alone," I assure him. "Just come home right away. I have something very important to tell you."

"And what's that about?" He's very alarmed right now. I can feel it in the tone of his voice. "Babe, you're making me worried."

"I know, I'm sorry..." I deeply sigh. "But please trust me, Cole. I'll tell you everything later."

He exhales heavily. "Okay, okay..." He seems like he's convincing himself to let me off the hook. "I'll come home once I'm done with work. Do you still have our spare key, by the way? No one's home. Mom told me she was going to her friend's house. Dad's at work."

Before I answer Cole, I quickly check my bag's inside pocket to see if I did bring their house's spare key, which they gave me back when I was still staying with them. "I do have it here with me," I say when I touch the Statue of Liberty keychain attached to it.

"Okay. I'll see you later, babe."

"Uhuh... See you."

As we end our call, I ask the cab to pull over in front of the Griffins' house, pay for the fare, and go into the house using the spare key. Like Cole said earlier, there's no one inside. Without wasting any time, I head over upstairs and try to open Justice's room. Luckily, her room is not locked.

Despite having no one around, I'm still extra careful while entering Justice's room. I can't let her find out that I went inside her room once she gets home later.

I glance at the alarm clock on top of the table beside her bed. There's still eight minutes to five. I have a lot of time left before they come, but I need to do this quickly and cleanly. I can't be too complacent with the time I have.

I begin to search her room for possible clues and evidence with that thought in mind. To be honest, I have no thoughts of crossing the line, such as invading her privacy like this, but this is not just for my safety. If I won't move bolder, Cole and his family's safety is also being compromised.

What Belinda told me earlier made me fear Justice and believe that she is really capable of hurting other people. I can still recall how our conversation went...

"Thank you very much for responding to my emails, Mrs. Hammington. This really means a lot to me as Justice's psychotherapist," I said, expressing my gratitude with a polite smile. "I have a lot of things to ask about Justice, especially her condition during the first weeks or months after her brother died."

"It's my pleasure, Dr. Sanders," she replied and smiled back. "And just call me Belinda, please."

I could see some resemblances between Justice and her auntie, Belinda. Well, I guessed it's because her auntie does look like her mother―has long black hair and perfectly tanned skin. Both of them also exhibit a Spanish look. But I get it. They're Filipinos; that's why they look a bit Spanish.

"No problem, Belinda. You can call me Venice if you like."

"Very well, Venice," she said and chuckled a bit. "Actually, I'm a bit nervous because I don't know how this would go."

I smiled as her innocence seemed familiar to me. "You don't have to worry about that, Belinda," I assured her. "You can comfortably tell me everything you know about Justice and how she behaved when she was still under your custody. It's just like story-telling."

"Well, okay..." Her angle changed as she shifted her position, making herself feel more comfortable. "Actually, Justice is really a cheerful person. She's very optimistic and friendly."

Nodding my head, I noted that it's similar to what Cole told me before. She was really an outgoing person back then.

"After my sister and my brother-in-law died in a car accident, it's like we lost her, too. She wouldn't talk to anyone and only relied on her brother. But Justin told us before that he was also having a hard time taking care of his sister because she was being difficult. She would only respond to him through body language — nodding or shaking her head. Whenever he asked her to do something, she would do it, but you wouldn't hear anything from her. That's what Justin told us."

I could relate to that. Justice was also like that when I first met her.

"We let it pass because we all thought she just needed time to heal from her parent's death," she continued. "But that day, when the accident happened, she suddenly came to our house. We thought she just really wanted to visit and bond with her cousins, but I was surprised when she told me she didn't want to go home. She wanted to live with us. But of course, I couldn't just allow her, so I called Justin and informed him about it. He came to pick up Justice, but she didn't want to go home with him even if he had already begged her."

I bit my lower lip and played with my pen while listening intently.

"We could see how stressed Justin was, but despite that, he still wanted to fulfill his promise to his parents that he'd take care of his sister. We also experienced his hardships when Justice started living with us during the first two months after my nephew died."

Everything she was telling me so far was something I already knew. I was looking forward to knowing how Justice lived with them before.

"So, how was she before?" I curiously asked.

"At first, she's just like how Justin described her―aloof. But eventually, she became close with my second eldest daughter."

My eyes slightly widened, sensing some similarities. Justice became close to Belinda's daughter, just like how she got close to me. I could feel the goosebumps slowly pricking on my skin.

"We thought that it was a good thing because she was slowly opening up," she said. "However, we applied three years ago to move and live here in England with my husband, who already has a permanent job here during that time. Our approved papers arrived, and we told Justice that we couldn't take her along with us, so I had to ask her other relatives to take custody of her. I was confident that she'd be okay with it because, as I said, she was showing some improvements. But she was so mad. I don't want to say this, but she went almost crazy about it."

Belinda didn't have to tell me anymore how Justice reacted. Of course, she was angry because she didn't want Belinda's daughter to leave her.

I knew that Justice didn't like the idea of being left behind. I knew because that's how she reacted the last time I told her that I'd stop being her psychotherapist. Justice threw tantrums and cried all night. She even got drunk even though she's still a minor.

"Francine, my daughter whom she was close with, tried to comfort her. She promised her that they will still talk to each other." Belinda bit her lower lip, contemplating whether she would continue her story or not. Her peeved expression got me even more interested and curious. I felt like whatever she was keeping inside her mind was what I was looking for.

I cleared my throat to get her attention because she seemed lost in her deep thoughts. "What happened after that?" I urged her to continue her story. "Did she stop or..." I trailed there to let her continue.

"She did not..." She shook her head. "One night, my daughter came inside my room. She was crying, saying she was scared of Justice."

My chest tightened, and I held tight on my seat.

"She told me that Justice threatened her. She even showed me her arms that night," she said, with her lips slightly trembling. "Justice's nails dug into her arms to stop her when she was trying to escape her hold. The wound was bleeding. Even our neighbor, a nurse, was surprised at how deep the wound got. It only meant that Justice put too much pressure and force―the reason why my daughter got hurt and bled physically."

D*mn... I could almost taste the bitter truth, but I also wanted to spit everything out. I just couldn't really believe how someone as sweet and innocent as Justice could do something like that.

Did she really intend to hurt her, or was it unintentional?

But she threatened her! For sure, she really had something like that in mind.

While I was having an inner argument with myself, Belinda continued her story. "Ever since that night, Francine never let herself get close again to Justice. She was very cautious and wary of her. She even wanted us to leave the country as soon as we could."

"I hope you don't mind me asking, Belinda..." I licked my lips as they were getting dry from the fear and tension I was feeling. "How did you handle the situation? Did you talk to Justice or what?"

"I confronted and reprimanded Justice about what she did, but she just stayed silent," she answered my question. "I told my husband what happened, and he suggested that I should try to get help for Justice."

With creases on my forehead, I asked, "Help―you mean?"

She nodded her head. "We wanted her to get checked by a professional, especially regarding her mental health," she said. "However, Justice refused to get diagnosed. We couldn't convince her to reconsider her decision. She was too firm that we couldn't bend her."

So, Belinda and her husband already thought of putting Justice under psychotherapy. Still, Justice was adamant about it―just like how she was before I persuaded her countless times, not knowing what I was really dealing with.

"And since I was busy with our nearing flight to England, I couldn't pay attention to her anymore. I just let her be until we finally moved to England..." Her eyes were brimming with regret that she had left her niece behind. "That's why when I received your email, I was glad that she was finally getting the help she needs. I was more than willing to cooperate. Even though she hurt my daughter, she's still my sister's daughter. She's my niece."

The words I heard from Belinda pushed me to move forward and step up, even when I was slowly consumed by fear. I still have yet to know the truth behind her brother's death. If she was capable of hurting her cousin, it's possible that she also did the same thing to her brother before. It's possible she had something to do with his death.

This reminds me that she admitted that she hates her brother during one of our sessions. She emphasized that she hates him so much.

Is it because he was trying to keep her from fleeing before? Is it because he was intercepting her plans? Is it because she felt like her brother was too controlling of her?

Thinking about all the possible reasons, my head hurts. Instead of getting pulled down into my abyss, I resume looking for clues, hoping that I will be able to find something.

I try looking at her study table. The things on top of it are organized neatly. A conspicuous-looking box catches my attention under the pile of Justice's past textbooks.

Initially, I planned just to ignore it because no one would dare hide his secrets out in the open. Usually, in movies and novels, these pieces of evidence are hidden inside the lowest cabinet, under the bed, or something similar. But this is reality. Sometimes, the best thing to do is to go with the opposite.

Carefully, I remove the pile of books above the box. It looks conspicuous because Justice put it in a place where it should be unnoticed. However, it is now clearly visible since it doesn't fit. Not to mention, it's quite a big box.

"Let's see..." I whisper to myself as I open the lid.

The family picture I saw before was at the top of a pile of photographs and letters. I scan every image inside the box and read five letters from her friends when a polaroid picture appears before me at the very bottom.

It's a polaroid of Justice with Justin. If you look at them, they seem very close to each other. They also look younger here.

I unconsciously flip the polaroid around. Horrified with the text written at the back, I almost lost grip on the picture. But to read it over and over again, I refuse to let go.

Using a red marker, written in printed capital letters: "DIE NOW!!!"