Chapter 284 Garrett

Chapter 284 Garrett
Garrett

For several seconds after my answer, nobody moved.

My father still had one hand covering his mouth. Tears streamed down his face as he stared at Graves, but my mother hadn’t looked at him once. She sat rigidly beside Dad, her features frozen beneath the weight of a truth she had never expected me to say aloud.

Graves kept watching me.
I turned away from him and found Aslan again.

The prosecutor waited until the judge restored order. “Garrett, you said after you returned from that refresher weekend, your body reacted differently towards Aslan. Did those reactions last?”

“For a while. But they got better.”

“What changed?”

“I stopped running from him.” I looked at my lion. “I realized being afraid didn’t mean I had stopped loving him. It only meant Graves had hurt me.”

Aslan lowered his head, wiping his eyes.

“Did Dr. Graves and your family eventually discover that you and Aslan were together?”

“Yes.”

“What happened when they did?”

“They came to Crownwell and took me.” The words alone made my wrists ache.

“Who came for you?”

“My mother, Dr. Graves, and men from Spring Creek.”

“Did you agree to go with them?”

“No. They restrained me, and I fought them.”

“What happened when Aslan attempted to intervene?”

“They shoved him away. He fell, tried to get back up, and then…” My breath caught as the room disappeared around me. “I saw his face change. He couldn’t breathe.”

“Did you know about Aslan’s heart condition?”

“Yes. I knew the symptoms. I had seen them before, and I knew his heart was failing.”

“What did you do?”

“I stopped fighting.” Tears blurred the courtroom. “I told them I would go. I said I would do anything they wanted if they helped him. I kept begging them to please help him.”

“Did anyone help him?”

“No.”

“Did Dr. Graves approach him?”

“No. Nobody did.” My voice broke. “Aslan was on the floor fighting for air, and I…” I pressed my trembling fingers against my mouth, but the sob still escaped. “I was begging. I kept telling them about his heart, but they just kept restraining me.”

The prosecutor gave me time to recover before asking, “What happened next?”

“They took me away and dragged me toward one of their cars. Outside, I saw Aitor running toward me. I tried to tell him about Aslan, but he couldn’t understand me.”

“Why not?”

“Because they had muzzled me.”
I could hear people stirring on their chairs.

“What happened when you reached the vehicle?”

“They injected me with something. I woke up at Spring Creek.”

“Did you know whether Aslan had survived?”
“No.”

The prosecutor moved closer. “What happened after you woke?”

“I was restrained to a bed, but the room was different from the ones I remembered. It had a private bathroom, a comfortable chair, books, and a television. It almost looked like a hotel room.”

“Were you free to leave?”

“No. The door was locked.”

“Why were you being kept there?”

“Dr. Graves wanted me to sign some papers. My family owned a business across the country, and they had arranged for me to manage it. I would move there, leave Crownwell, and cut contact with everyone I knew.”

“What did Dr. Graves promise in exchange?”

“That the pain would stop. I could have money, a home, and a successful life. They would provide private doctors to supervise me and make sure I continued meeting their expectations.”

“For how long?”

“For the rest of my life.”

“Did you accept that offer?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I couldn’t leave Aslan. I couldn’t abandon Olivia, Aitor, Coach, James, or anyone else I loved. Even if Aslan was hurt, I had to believe he would come for me.”

“What happened each time you refused to sign?”

“Graves used stimulation therapy again. He told me I could make it stop whenever I wanted. All I had to do was sign.”
My hands were shaking so violently that I hid them beneath the edge of the witness stand.

“Did anyone from your family visit you while you were confined?”

“My mother.”

“What did she want?”

“She wanted me to sign too. She was nicer than usual. She said she loved me and wanted me to have a life they could be proud of. She told me I still had the potential to become the person she knew I could be.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I loved her, but I couldn’t do it. I told her I loved Aslan and I couldn’t leave him.”
My mother finally looked at me.

“What did she say?”

The words were still inside me exactly where she had left them.
“She said there was no reason to wait for him because he was dead.”

The gallery erupted. The judge struck the gavel and demanded silence, but I barely heard him. My mother’s face disappeared behind my tears.

“Did you believe her?”

“She was my mother.” I couldn’t stop crying now. “Who would lie about something so awful…? Who would purposely hurt me that badly?”

“What happened after she told you?”

“She left me there.”

“And when Dr. Graves returned?”

“I couldn’t think. I couldn’t hear what he was saying. I could only see the rest of my life inside that room without Aslan.”

“Did you strike Dr. Graves with a lamp?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“My mother had just told me Aslan was dead. I believed Graves had caused it. I wasn’t thinking. I saw the lamp, and I hit him.”

“What happened then?”

“Staff restrained me. Graves told them to leave.”

The prosecutor’s voice became quieter. “What did he do after they left?”

My eyes closed. Aslan was there. I could feel him even without looking.

“He raped me again, without protection this time, without any...care. Just force.”

“What happened after the assault?”

“He kissed me. He told me everything would be okay, and then he left.”

“What did you do?”

“I took a piece of the broken lamp and… cut myself.”

“Were you trying to end your life?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because Aslan was dead. My mother had abandoned me, Graves would never let me go, and there was nobody left to wait for.” I struggled for air between sobs. “I thought even if someone found me, I would spend the rest of my life being hurt. I didn’t have anything left.”

The prosecutor returned to her table. “No further questions.”

The defense attorney rose.
He began carefully, almost kindly. He asked about my history of self-harm, my aggression, and the students I had bullied. He reminded the jury that I had struck Graves hard enough to injure him and forced me to admit that my own behavior had often been violent and impulsive.

Then his questions changed. “You had known Dr. Graves for most of your life, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And during that time, you became emotionally dependent upon him?”

“No.”

“You wrote to him extensively about your thoughts, desires, and sexual feelings.”

“Because he made me.”

“You discussed your attraction to men with him in intimate detail.”

“During therapy.”

The attorney lifted a file. “Dr. Graves’s notes repeatedly describe inappropriate attachment, sexualized behavior, and your tendency to confuse attention with affection.”

“Those are his words. Not mine.”

“Did you ever tell him he was the only person who understood you?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe when I was ten and we talked about art.”

“Did you seek his approval?”

“I tried to avoid punishment.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

My fingers tightened around the witness stand. “Then yes. I tried to give him whatever answer he wanted.”

The attorney stepped closer. “You were grieving when the final sexual encounter occurred.”

“It wasn’t an encounter. He raped me.”

“You believed Aslan was dead, and you were desperate for comfort.”

“I didn’t want comfort from him.”

“Dr. Graves approached you as your physician, and you misinterpreted his concern as something more.”

“Didn’t you tell Dr. Graves—and I quote—‘I’m tired. I can’t carry this anymore. I don’t want to feel like this. Please make it stop’?”

“Yes, but I was pretending so he would lower his guard and order the staff to release me.”

“And once he sent them away, you initiated sexual contact, didn’t you?”

“What? No!”

“You had spent years trying to provoke a personal response from him. You wanted him to see you as more than a patient.”

“No! I wanted him to leave me alone.”

“Dr. Graves never saw you as anything but a patient, did he? He rejected you. Whatever attachment existed between you was entirely in your mind.”

The prosecutor rose. “Objection—”

But it was interrupted by a chair scraping violently across the floor.

“That’s not true!”

Every face turned toward Graves. His attorney grabbed his sleeve, but he tore his arm free, staring directly at me.

“I never rejected him. He needed me. What we had was real. He was mine long before Aslan Rivers ever came near him.”