Anya wasn’t sure why Sophie felt the connection, but she shared it too. The Saint Jude’s medal remained pinned to Sophie’s gown. The smallest of gestures made an enormous difference.
“You’re in good hands.” She glanced at the shelves on the wall. “And look at all the beautiful flowers.”
Tears welled in Sophie’s eyes and the breathing machine accelerated.
“I know you didn’t ask for this, and we can’t change what happened.” Anya leaned forward; instinct told her the girl needed a hug, but she moved the fringe from Sophie’s eyes instead. Tears had changed them from gray to an almost bright blue.
“I miss Rachel. Have to be brave for Dad.”
This was too much to expect of a fourteen-year-old. Not only was Sophie still dealing with life-threatening injuries, she felt the need to support her father.
“You have to grieve as well. He understands that and is trying to be brave for you.”
The young girl seemed far more frail than at the first police interview. She buried her face into Anya’s shoulder and cried. It was no surprise the emotion was coming out. It had to. Physical healing was one thing. Emotional wounds took a lot longer.
“People say I’m lucky…to be…alive.” She lifted her head and glanced around the room. “Strangers sent all this.” She paused for a couple more breaths. “I’m not lucky or grateful…Don’t understand why this happened.” More tears flowed. “Dad cries…when he thinks I’m asleep.”
A torrent of pain, from that night and since, poured out of Sophie’s traumatized body. Anger was a large part of grieving, and she had every right to be angry.
Nothing Anya said would make a difference right now, so she just held Sophie. Never good at meaningless platitudes, she was better at listening. Which was what this girl needed more than anything at this moment.
“I should have died, not Rachel.”
“You can’t think like that.”
Anya pulled back and dabbed Sophie’s eyes with a tissue from a box on the bedside drawers.
“No one understands.”
Anya hesitated before deciding to explain why she understood part of what Sophie and her father were going through.
“When I was five, my little sister was abducted by a stranger. She was never found, but I spent years feeling guilty that I wasn’t taken instead. I was supposed to be looking after her and didn’t.”
Sophie’s eyes glistened as she listened.
“I understand what it’s like to be the survivor. But there was absolutely nothing you could have done. It was out of your control, just like my sister was with me.” She brushed a strand of hair out of the young girl’s eye. “Your father is so grateful that you’re here. Do you think he’d be any less hurt if Rachel were in your place, or if you had both died?”
She shook her head.
They sat hugging for a few more minutes until a nurse checked to see if the police could come in. “Give us another minute,” Anya said, and wiped Sophie’s face with a damp facecloth.
“You can do this later if you don’t feel up to it.”
“If you stay…I’ll be all right.”
“Deal, but remember what I said earlier. If you want to stop tell us.”
Hayden Richards and Liz Gould entered and sat on vinyl chairs provided by the staff.
A video camera was set up, and switched on by the cameraman before he left. The red light on the front glowed. Kate had opted to stay in the AV room, monitoring the recording. If anything else happened to Sophie- medical complications-it was important to have any evidence she gave on tape for potential jurors.
Hayden began by announcing the date, time and location of the statement.
Sophie sat with the bed more upright. If Anya hadn’t been present she never would have believed the degree of composure and maturity in someone so young.
Hayden asked if she could describe what had happened the evening of the attack. They heard how Rachel had cooked dinner: lamb chops and mint sauce. Sophie had just cleaned up the kitchen and made two cups of tea before their favorite TV show,
Rachel looked through the window and saw a car in the drive. She opened the door and the men just pushed inside. There were three of them. One just started yelling at her to get him the money.
“Can you point to where exactly this was?” Hayden showed her a line map of her house. No crime scene photos were necessary.
“There. The living room. The one yelling had a baseball bat and smashed the cups off the table. Rachel told me to run.” She spoke, head lowered. “I was too scared to move.”
“Do you remember anything about the man with the bat?”
“He was the one with the black mark on his chin. He was really angry and just kept shouting, ‘Tell us where the money is.’ Rachel kept saying we didn’t have any and begged them to leave us alone.”
Sophie’s face became void of expression. “The one with the bat punched Rachel with his fist. She hit the wall, hard. He started shouting that he was going to kill us.”
Liz Gould shifted slightly in her seat. “Was Rachel conscious after she hit the wall?”
Sophie licked her lips. Anya offered her a sip through the straw, which she took before answering.
“I think she was dazed. I reached for her handbag, which was next to the lounge. She had twenty bucks. But that’s when the one near me hit me hard in the head. My ears started ringing. Rachel told them we didn’t have much money. They wouldn’t listen.”
Liz asked, “Did they mention anything that you can remember, guns, cars, drugs or places? Or call each other by names?”
“Not that I remember. We don’t use drugs. We promised Mum before she died.”
“Did Rachel have a boyfriend?” So far, the police had no motive.
“Only one since school.” The breathing machine was becoming less noticeable. “They broke up after Mum died. She loved hairdressing and was too tired to go out with anyone after work.” A small smile appeared. “She said nagging me about homework and the phone bill was more fun than a boyfriend.”
Liz commented, “She sounds like a pretty good big sister.”
Sophie thought for a moment. “Sometimes she was a pain but so was I.”
Rachel Goodwin and Savannah Harbourn came from different worlds, but cared the same way for their younger siblings. Anya shuddered to think that Gary Harbourn and his brothers had hurt both of them so much.
“What happened next?” Liz asked.
“The one with the bat grabbed her by the hair. It was pretty long, she had a weave done at work…She squealed as he dragged her into the bedroom. One came over to me with a knife and told me to shut up and stay still. He said I was next. I started crying. I begged them not to hurt us.”
“Do you remember anything special about the man with the knife?”
“He was sweating a lot and wiping his face with his sleeve. He had a cap on. I didn’t see his hair or eyes.”
“Where were the other two?”
“They went in the bedroom and closed the door.”
Sophie looked down and her shoulders tightened. The breathing machine accelerated, along with rises on the heart rate and blood pressure monitor.
“Take your time,” Anya offered. “If you need a break…”
Sophie shook her head, closed her eyes and spoke.
“I could hear Rachel crying and someone yelling. The room was getting dark. It felt like hours. Then Rachel screamed really loudly. It sounded like she was in so much pain. After that, she didn’t make any more noise.”
Anya felt a cold wave across her skin. Sophie was describing the moment when her sister had been stabbed and killed.
“What happened after that?” Liz asked gently.
Sophie touched the intravenous drip taped to the back of her hand.
“Two of them came out and the one who had the bat had blood all over his clothes and hands.”
“Was he holding a knife?”
A pause.
