Chapter 4 - Discovering The Truth About Gwen
Dawn began to break over the Houston suburbs, casting a pale, gray light across the manicured lawns of the neighborhood.
David sat quietly in the dark guest room, reviewing the downloaded files and piecing together the timeline of abuse.
The records showed that six months after his deployment began, Margaret had somehow managed to get her name added to the deed.
She had manipulated Gwen into signing legal documents under the guise of “routine spousal power of attorney paperwork.”
Gwen, trusting and exhausted, had signed away her legal protections without realizing she was handing over the title.
That explained why the locks had been changed and why Gwen looked like a prisoner inside her own home.
A soft knock echoed at the guest room door, interrupting his intense concentration on the computer screen.
David looked up as the door creaked open, revealing Gwen standing in the threshold with downcast eyes.
She wore her oversized gray sweatshirt and the thick winter beanie, shivering slightly in the morning chill.
“David?” she whispered, her voice cracking with lingering fear as she stepped tentatively into the room.
“Come here, sweetheart,” David said softly, his voice gentle and completely devoid of any anger directed at her.
Gwen hesitated for a moment before walking over, her steps hesitant like a stray animal expecting a sudden blow.
David stood up immediately, stepping forward to wrap his arms around her fragile, trembling frame.
When his chest pressed against hers, he felt just how severely undernourished she truly was under those baggy clothes.
“I’m sorry... I didn't mean to wake you,” Gwen mumbled into his shoulder, her hands gripping his shirt tightly.
“You didn't wake me up, Gwen. I’ve been awake all night,” David replied, resting his chin gently on top of her beanie.
“Why are you wearing that heavy hat inside the house, honey? Is your head cold?” David asked gently.
Gwen stiffened instantly in his arms, pulling back just enough to look up into his eyes with unconcealed terror.
“I... I lost my hair, David. During a bad fever last winter,” she stammered, avoiding his direct gaze.
David’s eyes dropped lower, noticing for the first time the faint, fading purple bruises running along her jawline.
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“That wasn't a fever, was it?” David asked quietly, his tone dropping into a dangerous, icy register.
Gwen’s eyes widened in sheer panic, shaking her head vigorously from side to side as fresh tears spilled over her lashes.
