Page 111 of Truck Hard

“When… when it’s all done, we’ll really be done with him right?” His voice is small, uncertain. “Like… he’ll never be able to hurt you again?”

My heart clenches. “Never. He will never have power over me again.”

He nods firmly. “Good. I don’t want anything to do withhimanymore.”

The venom in his voice when he says ‘him’ makes me flinch. Cam notices and immediately looks guilty.

“Sorry. I just… I hate what he did to you.”

“I know, sweetie.” I reach over to squeeze his hand. “But we’re free now. Both of us. And nothing he says or does today can change that.”

He lunges across the console to hug me tight. “Love you, Mom.”

“Love you too.” I hold him close for a moment before letting go. “Now get to class before you’re late.”

I watch him jog up the steps, merging into the crowd of students. My brave, resilient boy. He’s handled all of this with such grace—the revelation about Liam being his father, the trauma of witnessing Charlie’s abuse, the upheaval of moving and going to public school. Sometimes I forget he’s only twelve.

The drive to the courthouse feels surreal, like I’m watching someone else navigate the familiar streets of Waverly. My mind keeps drifting to the last time I was here, when Charlie was first arrested. The fear that gripped me then seems distant now, replaced by a different kind of anxiety.

I park in the nearly empty lot, too early but unable to stay home any longer. The courthouse looms before me, all red brick and stern columns. Inside those walls, my future—our future—will be decided.

I grab my purse and step out of the car. The weight of the paternity test results sits heavy in my bag, though I knowmy lawyer has his own copy. I didn’t need to bring them, but something in me needed the tangible proof. The scientific confirmation of what I’ve known in my heart since the day Cam was born.

Liam Mutter, probability of paternity: 99.99%

Those numbers represent everything I’ve been too afraid to hope for—a chance at happiness, at family, at love without conditions or control. Charlie fought the testing every step of the way, but in the end, science doesn’t lie.

As I climb the courthouse steps, memories wash over me like waves. The first time Charlie hit me, leaving bruises that took weeks to fade. The way he apologized afterward, swearing it would never happen again. The gradual isolation as he cut me off from friends and family, controlling every aspect of my life until I could barely remember who I was before him.

But I’m not that scared girl anymore. The woman who walks through these doors today is stronger, wiser, and absolutely done with being afraid.

Taking one final deep breath, I square my shoulders and lift my chin.

Time to face the monster under the bed.Time to prove he can’t hurt me anymore.

I’ve spent so many years being afraid of Charlie, letting his influence poison every aspect of my life. But not anymore. Today, I take back my power. Today, I fight for my son’s future and my own happiness.

Today, I finally set us free.

My fingers trembleas I adjust my suit jacket one last time, staring at my reflection in the courthouse bathroom mirror. Thefluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across my face, making the dark circles under my eyes more visible despite my attempts with makeup.

The door creaks open and an elderly woman shuffles in, giving me a sympathetic smile as she passes. I wonder what she sees—a victim? A survivor? Both?

My phone buzzes in my purse, and I know without looking it’s probably Liam checking on me again. He wanted to be here today, insisted on it actually, but I needed to do this alone. To prove to myself that I could face Charlie without hiding behind someone else’s strength.

Still, his supportive messages throughout the morning have been like anchors keeping me steady.

Liam

You’ve got this. Remember, he can’t hurt you anymore.

Proud of you for standing up for yourself and Cam

Call me the second you’re done. I love you.

That last one makes my heart clench. He says those words so easily now, even though I still haven’t said them back. Not because I don’t feel them—God knows I do—but because some part of me is still afraid that loving someone makes you vulnerable. Gives them power over you.

Charlie taught me that.

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