A/N Thanks for reading and reviewing the first chapter. I really do appreciate it.

The police arrived as Adam left for work. Despite repeatedly offering to call in sick as well, Kirsty was adamant he went in, keeping his mouth shut about the real reason for her absence. She didn't think she could deal with him breathing down her neck throughout the interview; it was bad enough having to do it as it was. She didn't want him knowing what she had been putting up with, either. It would rip him apart.

Letting the police in, she was shocked to recognise one of the officers who had arrived at the house.

"Elliot Bartlet? I didn't know you were a policeman. You hated the cops when we were kids."

"Kirsty Jackson? Well I never." He embraced her in a hug, a smile crossing both their faces. "I didn't expect to see you here. It's been, what, twenty years?"

"Clements, now. And something like that. You haven't met my daughter, have you? Nita, this is Elliot. We were best friends at primary school, then this fool moved to London when we were fifteen."

Nita nodded. "Hi," she whispered.

Elliot sat down next to Kirsty on the sofa. "So what happened?"

Kirsty shrugged. "I met a guy, got pregnant, got married. Fourteen years down the line, he started hitting me."

"Bastard."

Nita flinched at the word, and Kirsty put an arm around her. "Ell's a good guy," she whispered. "He just swears too much. At least, he did when we were kids, and it seems like he hasn't changed much." She knew she was being too flippant, but it was her way of coping.

Elliot laughed, overhearing. "Yeah. I do swear too much. Sorry." He looked across to his colleague. "This is Fiona Bracknall, a police liaison officer."

Fiona leant across to shake Kirsty's hand. "Mrs Clements. I'm going to need to take you down to the police station later, if that's alright."

Nita's face paled. "You're not going to hurt my mum, are you?"

Fiona shook her head. "Don't worry. You might want to go to your room for a bit, though, while we ask her a few questions."

"It's not our house. It's Adam's. And I want to stay here."

"It's alright," Kirsty explained to the liaison officer. "Nita, uh, was a witness. She knows what happened; I'm fine with her being here." She was shaking as she spoke, though, and Elliot squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"That means she'll have to be interviewed separately. If we go down to the police station now, we can do it there. Is that alright with you?"

Kirsty looked to Nita. "Darling?"

"I want to stay with you."

"You're going to have to be brave for a while, sweetheart. I'm not sure they're going to let me stay with you while they talk to you, but I promise you I'll be waiting when you come out." Kirsty looked to Elliot for reassurance. "That's right, isn't it?"

Elliot nodded. "Your mum's spot on. I'll stay with you instead, if you like. I promise I won't swear."

Nita stared at him for a moment, uncertain. "Really?"

"Really. Plus I've got a few embarrassing stories about your mum you might like to hear."

Kirsty rolled her eyes. "I know a few about you as well. Like the time you got upset because you rode over a snail on your bike and killed it."

Somehow, Elliot being here made things a whole lot easier to handle. Even knowing why he was here, with the memory of Warren's assault fresh in her mind, she could cope. He was her oldest friend, and although they hadn't seen each other in years, the connection was still there. She could, and would, trust him with anything, including her daughter.

"I was six years old," Elliot protested. He stood up and put his hat on, covering his spiky black hair completely. Kirsty remembered when he had first started spiking it up, not long after they started high school. "Shall we go?"

The banter continued on the journey, with Nita becoming increasingly more relaxed around the man her mother seemed to know so well. Fiona didn't say a lot, just drove, and they arrived at the police station talking about sneaking into clubs underage.

It was in the police station that Kirsty began to panic. Elliot and Nita went into a different room to talk, leaving Kirsty with Fiona. Something nagged her to turn around and go. She wasn't strong enough to do this.

Something snapped inside her as she sat down on the sofa. The room was brightly decorated and spacious, which was obviously designed to relax victims of crime as much as possible. No. She wasn't a victim. She wouldn't allow herself to be. Warren had worn her down, but she was ready to fight him. She was strong. She would have to be, for Nita's sake. She was going to do this for her daughter.

"Kirsty?" Fiona's voice cut into her thoughts, and Kirsty turned.

"I'm ready."