Bethany sat on the edge of her bed in Atlanta, holding an ice pack to her swollen cheek. Her hands trembled as she stared at her phone.

After what happened with Lynette in Great Falls, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight. Finally, she took a deep breath and dialed the number.

“Thank you for calling the Great Falls Police Department. If this is an emergency, please hang up and dial 911…”

Bethany listened carefully, her heart pounding. When someone finally answered, she cleared her throat.

“Yes, ma’am,” she began softly. “I live in Atlanta, but something happened while I was in Great Falls. I need to press charges.”

The officer asked what happened.

“I was attacked,” Bethany said, her voice shaking. “It was at a private residence. A distant family member beat me up pretty bad.”

She hesitated. Giving details felt heavy. “I just… I don’t want to share the address yet. I have some questions first. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to do.”

The officer explained the process, but Bethany’s mind raced. “I don’t have to come back to Montana, right? Can this be handled over the phone?” she asked.

It wasn’t just fear of paperwork. It was fear of consequences.

Lynette was family. Pressing charges could divide everyone. It could affect her stepson, her relatives, even her marriage. The weight of it all pressed on her chest.

“I’m just scared,” Bethany admitted quietly. “I don’t want this to make things worse.”

After a pause, she sighed. “Okay… if I decide to move forward, I’ll call back and speak directly to an officer.”

When the call ended, the room felt silent again.

Bethany stared at her reflection in the mirror — bruised, tired, but thinking. Justice meant standing up for herself. But it also meant facing whatever came next.