Disclaimer: I don't claim any ownership of any Higher Ground characters. I created Janey, Keith, and Officer Kaye. Thank you for taking the time to review. I appreciate it so much.

Janey blinked at the CPS official, whom she had been told to call Officer Kaye, from her seat on the couch. Peter handed the man the tape. He glanced at it. "Oldies Mix number three?"

"Yeah," Janey said. She felt a lump in her throat and swallowed at it, hard. This was not for her, she reminded herself. It was for Scott. She had lied for so long; it was time to come clean and do the right thing.

Officer Kaye slipped the tape into the tape deck that Peter provided. Janey looked everywhere but the man's eyes. Peter sat down beside her on the couch, his presence comforting. Sophie stood unobtrusively across the room. She knew that Janey did not really want her there.

Janey's voice, clear and matter-of-fact, filtered through the tape deck and into the room.

"My name is Janey Barringer. I live in Seattle, Washington with my mother, Elaine, my stepfather, Martin, and my broth—stepbrother Scott. It's eleven-thirty pm on Wednesday, October thirteenth, 1999."

Hearing herself state the facts, Janey felt like it was Wednesday, October 13, 1999 all over again.

~Flashback~

"I'm in my room on the second floor of our house." Janey said softly into the recorder. She had no idea what all she needed to say. "My mother just went into the next door room…That's Scott's." Her voice broke slightly and softened to a whisper. "I'm going to move to the doorway." She did so quietly, crouching outside the door, holding the recorder toward the room.

"Scotty?" Elaine's voice asked clearly.

Janey heard a rustle of bedsheets and Scott's tired, frightened voice. "You said no more."

"Scotty, I was scared of the storm."

"It rains here, get used to it," Scott replied, but Janey could hear honest fear through the bold words.

"Just say you love me," Elaine wheedled. "Just say it once, Scotty."

"Stop calling me that!"

"Say you love me," she pleaded.

"I can't," Scott whispered brokenly. "Don't make me. I just can't."

"Write it down," she begged. "On this paper. Just write it. I need to know you love me."

"No," Scott said. "It's not right."

"I'll tell," Elaine threatened suddenly. "I'll tell your father. I'll tell him you forced me. That you made me. Who do you think he'll believe? A grown woman who he loves, or a spoiled brat of a teenager? Huh?"

"Please don't tell." Now Scott was begging. Janey knew he had lost. "Don't tell him. He'd kill me."

"Then write," Elaine demanded. She had the control now, and Janey knew she would flaunt it. "Write me a love letter, Scotty, or I'll tell your dad. Make it good. You better mean it." Her voice softened. "You know you want me, Scotty. You know it."

"I don't want you, skank!"

"Write it," Elaine said, her voice dangerous, the playful edge gone.

Scott had begun to sob quietly, and Janey heard the scratch of a pencil on paper. She swallowed at the lump constricting her throat and felt the tape recorder in her sweaty fingers. Several minutes later, there was a rustle of paper as Scott threw the letter at Elaine.

"Good boy," Elaine purred. "Ready for your reward?"

"Please," Scott implored, sobbing. "Please just leave me alone. What if they hear us? I don't want this. Please, Elaine."

"You better be quiet then," Elaine said, and Janey heard the rustle of bedsheets again. She put the recorder down by the door, still recording, and squeezed her eyes shut, pressing her hands over her ears. It blocked everything out. Blissful silence filled her head, and she felt her own chest heaving.

It was wrong. The wrongness of it gripped Janey's heart with horror and twisted her stomach. She felt like she had to retch, but she wouldn't let herself. Pressing her hands harder against her ears and squeezing her eyes tighter, she forced herself to accept the false security.

All she needed was the tape.

~End Flashback~

Her hands pressed against her ears, her eyes shut tight in fear and horror, her body wracking with silent sobs, Janey huddled into the couch. Peter had an arm wrapped tightly around her, realizing the pain that Elaine had put her daughter and her stepson through. He understood their scars, and wanted more than ever to help.

Slowly, he pried Janey's hands from her afflicted ears, and pulled her into his arms more completely. The tape had ended, and Officer Kaye removed it slowly, placing it into a labeled plastic bag.

He sat in a chair across from Peter and Janey. Janey, her eyes damp and her face streaked, watched him quietly, her body still shaking with an occasional sob.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"I f-feel s-sick," Janey choked out.

"Can I ask you a few questions?" Kaye asked, his voice filled with compassion but down-to-business. He didn't get an answer. Glancing at Peter, who shrugged, he continued. "You taped this almost two years ago, Janey. Why wait until now?"

"I'm sorry," she said, hiccupping. "Really."

"No one's mad at you," Peter said reassuringly. "We're just wondering why you waited to tell us. To tell anyone."

"She…she was my mother," Janey whispered. "And I hated her so much. But I loved her too much to do it."

"Were you on drugs when you made this?" Kaye asked.

"No," she said quietly, but firmly. Stating the known facts grounded her, comforted her. "I got on them a few weeks later."

"Was your mother, to your knowledge, on drugs?"

"No," Janey said. "She was allergic to a lot of stuff, and most drugs would've killed her."

"Was your stepbrother?"

"Yes." She paused. "I think he started around then."

"Does Scott know you made this tape?"

"No."

"Did your mother ever do anything to you?"

Janey didn't answer for a while. She thought. "What kind of things?"

"Hit you? Yell at you? Abandon you?"

"She never hit me," Janey insisted.

"What about the others?" Kaye pressed gently.

"She forgot me sometimes," Janey said slowly. She fingered the hole in her jeans nervously. "Like at soccer practice. Or didn't make me dinner. She yelled too. She called me stuff, you know, cussed me out, said I ruined her life. Sometimes, she'd lock me in my room. There was a lock on the outside of the door, and she'd lock me in there for hours. Once, she left me in there for a whole day. I finally crawled out the window, fell off the roof, and broke my arm."

Peter cringed. Janey was a victim of neglect and verbal abuse. He met Sophie's look. His wife was both downcast and taken aback.

Jotting down a few notes, Kaye looked back at Janey. "Did you ever confront her about Scott's abuse?"

"No," Janey whispered. She looked down before continuing. "But I wish I had. I wish I'd told and this had never happened. Scott never got kicked off the football team, he never got on drugs, I never got on drugs. All of it. It's my fault for not telling."

"Janey," Peter said firmly, forcing her chin up, making her look in his face. "You are not to blame for your mother's poor choices. You are not to blame for Scott's poor choices. You are your own person and responsible only for your own choices. Understand?"

"I made a poor choice by not telling," she insisted.

"But you're making up for that now," Sophie said, cautiously speaking up for the first time. "You did the right thing by coming to us about it."

"She's right," Officer Kaye said kindly. "All too often, we find kids who don't speak up. You're one of the lucky ones. By you telling what happened, you allow me to help you. And I will."

"With the tape?" Janey asked.

"This tape is going to be the most helpful factor in convicting your mother of child abuse," Kaye answered. "It was very smart of you to make it."

Janey nodded, still looking somewhat uncomfortable, yet she was resolved. She had done the right thing in ratting out her mother. The right thing for Scott, for her mother, and for herself.

"Can I go please?" she asked. "I'd just like to lie down."

"Sure," Peter said. "You can go on to your dorm."

"Thanks," she said, leaving the comfort of his embrace. On her way out the door, she paused by Officer Kaye, as if plagued by an afterthought. "I hate her."

After the door had shut quietly behind her, Kaye gathered up his belongings. "I'll call you, Mr. Scarbrow, and let you know if she needs to testify in court."

"Thank you, Officer Kaye," Peter responded. He stood to shake hands with the CPS officer and show him out. Afterwards, Sophie came over to him and hugged him for a long time.