"What's going on, Boss?" Tony questioned, concerned.
"Someone abused that little girl, that's what." Gibbs answered, pacing back and forth, beyond agitated.
"Here's everything you asked for. Oh, and this Abby said she didn't know from where, but this fell from Ariel." Caitlin informed Gibbs, handing him what he asked for, plus a bloody napkin with writing on it. He ready that first:
It's bittersweet.
I have been waiting to hear Ariel say anything for over a year.
All I ever got was adorable coos and other noises.
She's never said one single, actual word.
NEVER.
But earlier today, before we left the hotel:
when I sent her to you:
She said, "Mama." She called me "Mama."
She said her first word—ever.
Mama. That's me.
She knows who I am to her.
Or rather, was by now.
It gives me so much hope for you.
Please, keep this note for Ariel for when she's older.
Just maybe cut around the blood stains.
I just want her to know how much her calling me "Mama"
being her first word meant to me.
Please, Jethro.
Also, please let her know how much I loved her.
Tessa: Ariel's Mama.
"Oh, I know; I'm sorry." Gibbs heard Ducky apologizing to a very distressed Ariel.
"Haru calm down and behave. Ducky's just trying to figure out what happened; he's not intentionally hurting her." Gibbs firmly told Haru. Haru huffed but laid back down, intently watching Ducky.
"Here. Do you want your teddy?" Gibbs questioned, holding Ariel's teddy bear above her. Slowly, she reached for her teddy bear, watching Gibbs the entire time.
'When she looks at me like that, I find it harder to deny that she's mine. But only time will tell.' Gibbs thought to himself.
After a few minutes of watching Ariel, Gibbs grabbed the chair he was sitting in and brought it over to the exam table, allowing Ariel to continue to watch him.
Everyone noticed just how much calmer Ariel was when she could see Gibbs.
"Just what kind of trouble was she in?" Gibbs questioned, opening the first folder, marked June 7th, 2001.
The contents of the folder shocked, confused, and concerned Gibbs.
There were two birth certificates:
Ariel Hope Gibbs:
Born June 1st, 2001, at 5:45 PM to:
Tessa Marie Grant and Leroy Jethro Gibbs at:
Memorial Hospital in Washington, DC.
Willow May Grant:
Born June 1st, 2001, at 5:45 AM to:
Tessa Marie Grant and Unknown Father at:
State Hospital in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.
Two legal social security cards:
One for Ariel Hope Gibbs.
One for Willow May Grant.
There was a wristband and an ankle band for Ariel Hope Gibbs
There was a wristband and an ankle band for Willow May Grant.
There was also a death certificate:
Willow May Grant:
Date Of Birth: 6/7/01
Date of Death: 6/18/03
Cause of Death: Accidental Drowning in the tub.
Cremated at Randy's Crematorium in Glassboro, New Jersey.
Finally, there was a letter:
Leroy Jethro Gibbs,
Please destroy this letter & anything to do with "Willow May Grant."
I left my family as soon as possible and joined the Navy when I turned 18. Of course, once I ended up pregnant with Andrew, they found me again.
They, themselves, aren't too dangerous, other than giving in to the ones that are. They are far more controlling than you could ever know, wish, or imagine.
We come from money—and I suppose my father's side comes from royalty or some shit. Because of his great-grandfather, they had to flee the small area of Rome that not many knew about. From what I understand, America welcomed them with open arms.
I don't know much because I never cared—not until it threatened my children's lives. And even now, as I write this, I only know that Ariel is in danger because of them.
Andrew's father denounced my side of the family and gave up all rights Andrew would've had.
I was surprised to find that out—and even more surprised that my parents were fine with it. That was until I discovered I had a distant male cousin—eight or nine years older than Ariel. Once she was to turn twelve, they would force her to marry him.
Of course, they don't know her as Arial; they know her as Willow.
Oh, by the way, I was seven months pregnant when I found out I was having a daughter—and so did they. And once I found out what they were planning, I devised this plan—without letting them know.
No, I couldn't just leave; they'd just find us again. And in the Grant family, men have all the power and say—no matter what country we're in. Women—especially daughters, have no say in anything whatsoever.
That's why I ran away at 18 in the first damn place. But as I found out, they know how to find me. So, they would for sure know how to find Ariel.
That's why two Birth Certificates.
That's why two Social Security Cards.
That's why two wrist and ankle bands.
That's why a Death Certificate.
There are also pictures as proof.
Though, the pictures are of Ariel sleeping after bathing her. She was exhausted—and I gave her cough syrup and a tiny bit of whiskey in her milk. She was out within minutes. She woke up six or seven hours later, and I took her to a hospital a week later. Aside from what I already knew or was still dealing with, there was nothing wrong with her.
As for the baby that was cremated:
She was the daughter of a close friend who knew about my family. Unfortunately, her daughter was diagnosed with Leukemia and a rare form of cancer: She passed away only three weeks later. They didn't have any family, and I was supposedly her only friend, so she said nobody knew she had a child. She then told me she gave birth in a hostel in Germany where she was on vacation. She let me use her daughter's body to fool my family. All she asked for in return was that her daughter's and her ashes be scattered so they could travel as far as the wind would take them together.
So, be on the lookout because you should receive their ashes in the mail—at your office. I do not know your address—whether you were in the same house or not.
And yes, I looked into everything she told me to ensure it was as she said. And sadly, it was. And if it makes you feel better, her name was Tanya Kressler, and her daughter's name was Paige Kressler: You're welcome to do your own research.
As for my ashes:
I would appreciate it if you saved them until Ariel is older so that when you and she decide to spread them, so that she'll understand what's going on. I want her to understand the symbolism and why.
That is all for that.
But in one of the folders are dozens and dozens of pictures of Ariel from day 1 until a few days ago.
I know you're not big into technology, so in the bag Evan gave you, there are three VHS tapes:
They're just of Ariel and mainly of her milestones:
Tape 1: Day 1-11 months.
Tape 2: 1 year-2 Years.
Tape 3: that won't have much—just a few random things in the past three months.
Tessa.
P.S.:
She has a deck of kid cards with cats on them:
They're technically meant for "Go Fish," but with cats because she's afraid of fish.
It's a long story—that's in one of the VHS tapes.
Oh, there's also a list of her fears somewhere.
But anyway, don't play Poker with her:
I don't know how, but she cheats. Yes, I know how that sounds, but it's not actual Poker; she's only two, for crying out loud. We call it "Meow Poker."
Hey, it gets her laughing—so much so that she'll fall sideways.
Great. I'm writing like I'd be talking if I were being judged.
You see what you do to me—even if I haven't seen you in three years.
I feel that you're judging me even though I can't see you reading this.
You—and your judgieness.
But anyway:
There's a list of all the cards: I've marked them with the numbers of actual playing cards.
So, yes, we play Meow Poker—and she cheats. Like I said, I don't know how, but she does. So, if you do play, don't bet on sweets or money.
Granted, I suppose she doesn't understand. And she doesn't care about the money; she only cares about cookies or doughnuts.
Tessa.
"Is something wrong, Boss?" Tony questioned, seeing Gibbs's face as he read the P.S. part of Tessa's note.
"Umm… No. It's just a lot of information. Are you finished with her?" Gibbs answered Tony before questioning Ducky.
"Just about. I would like to get some molds before I inform you of my findings." Ducky answered with a sigh, watching Ariel.
With how he answered him, Gibbs started becoming agitated again.
"Ok. Next." Gibbs sighed, taking out another folder:
In this one were the photos Tessa wrote about in her last letter.
'She looked a lot like my mother from the pictures I've seen before.' Gibbs thought to himself, flipping through pictures of Ariel when she was younger.
The next folder had a list of Ariel's fears:
· Fish
· Spiders
· Snakes
· The dark
· Loud noises
· Being left alone
· Thunder & lightning
· When any phone ring
· Knocking from the other side a door
To be fair, those last two are probably my fault because I'd jump and panic when I heard the door or phone sometimes.
A list of allergies:
Non-Medications:
· All shellfish-Deadly
· Pineapple-Severe Rash
· Anything Coconut-Severe Rash
· Dragon Fruit-Severe Rash
I'm afraid to let her try papaya or mango.
Medications:
· Morphine
· Codeine
· Sulfa Drugs
She also has basic pollen and severe smoke allergies, so please don't smoke around her. And if you do smoke or have been around others who smoke, make sure it's not strongly attached to you.
Tessa.
In another folder, there was a single note and some ER bracelets:
Leroy Jethro Gibbs,
Discretion Advised:
ABUSE INFORMATION:
Upon meeting Ariel and changing her diaper for the first time, I'm sure you notice some healing bruises.
Most are from some men who broke into our home a few weeks ago. As far as I'm aware, they have all been arrested. She has some scarring from my ex, who has been in jail for six months. And then some of the bruises and scars are from my father the week before "Willow" "died" in the bathtub.
The worst thing…
Well, a few things could be the worst things that happened to her.
As I explained in a different letter—the first letter attached to Ariel's dress. (I wrote everything to you at the same time a few weeks ago in advance, and then I had them organized and ordered in the way I wanted them.)
But anyway, you should know that Andrew attempted to smother her with a pillow when she was about five months. So, that's the worst and only thing he's done aside from verbal threats.
As far as I'm aware, the only thing my ex did was hit her several times, leaving bruises on her butt and cheeks. But I took care of that as soon as I found out.
You know, sometimes, I really did feel like a terrible mother. How did I not see that he was hurting her before? How could I just let someone like into our lives like that?
Why do men like that target people like Ariel and me in the first damn place?
Ehem.
Sorry about all that.
My father: he yanked her up by her arm and dislocated her left shoulder. That's healed now, by the way. She may feel sore when the weather is off, but the doctors said her shoulder was healed. I think he traumatized her more than anything.
You know, when I put her in overalls or whatever those skirts, shorts, or pants with the straps that crisscross on her back are called, I can lift her by the straps and carry her around for a little bit. She loves it and giggles the entire time.
However, my father decided to grab her by the back of her shirt—a regular shirt and swing her around like she was a ragdoll. She did not like that and screamed and screamed until he placed her on the floor. However, he then picked her up and threw her into the air. Of course, he caught her each time she came back down, but she didn't like it.
Ariel does not like it when I barely toss her up and catch her again. You know, the first time I did that, I thought it was because she was only nine or ten months old. Nope. She didn't like it at a year and a half or two. It makes her throw up—which I warned that man, but he refused to listen. So, when she threw up on him, he became enraged and threw her onto the couch.
You getting her wasn't supposed to be for another few months—when she reached two and a half. But after my father did that to her, I knew it was moving up, so I also had to move my plan up.
I know it's selfish, and I should have told you sooner, but I wanted a few more months with her all to myself.
I'm sorry.
It's not like me to get all emotional like this.
A lot of it started after I had her—prematurely. And then the attack…
I can handle three people on my own if I have to, but when it's a group of over seven men—and one finds Ariel and uses her as leverage…
What am I supposed to do?
Somewhere in the folders should be the report I filed. I made sure to get copies. So, just so it's no surprise, I was repeatedly raped by several men. I can't remember much after the seventh guy.
But that may be because I completely blacked out. One of them went after Ariel in that way. I was not having any of that. So, when one of the men put his nasty dick in my mouth, and I saw what I saw, I bit it off. And that was the last thing I remember.
I knew most of the police officers in the area and was friends with a few. They said the neighbors called the police around 1:42 AM when they heard Ariel screaming. Sorry. When they heard Willow screaming.
They told me that when they arrived, one man was on the ground screaming in pain with his dick barely connected. I shot and killed three men. I shot and severely injured two men: they survived but were arrested once well enough. Using a kitchen knife, I disemboweled one man. We're all assuming that was the man who went after Ariel in that way because he was the worst of the men. I don't know how many, but a few men were caught running down the street. And one man, the chief of police, shot one man who had Ariel pinned to a wall by her throat. I think he was the one in charge, but I'm not a hundred percent sure.
I'm sorry, I have to apologize:
One: for not being able to protect Ariel.
Two: for using that to describe what happened to Ariel. I can't say or write what happened to her down.
Though, I suppose, there was only touching. There was no penetration of any sort: that's what the doctor told me. She insisted Ariel—"Willow" was healthy, but her throat would be sore for a few days to a week or so. I ended up taking her to a pediatrician a week later with pain: that doctor said she had a UTI and some kind of fungal infection. But those have both cleared up. She is prone to diaper rashes, which is why I would like it if she started using her big-girl potty. But so far, no such luck.
I don't know how people do it.
Sorry. I don't know how people with children of different genders with significant age gaps do it.
Raising a little boy with no disabilities is far different than raising a little girl with several disabilities.
Don't get me wrong, I love Ariel more than anything—with my entire being, but I never planned on getting pregnant again after Andrew.
My family being one of the main reasons.
How it ended with my ex and all the custody battles.
The place I was in at the time.
Afraid of having a girl, knowing how my family is.
Having the gut feeling you didn't want a child.
I had all that, plus a difficult pregnancy—and an even harder birth.
I mentioned she was born a month and a half early, right?
I just worry, I suppose.
And going back to having the gut feeling about you not wanting children.
I do hope that's wrong.
Or, if I am right, you will give Ariel a chance and change your mind.
She truly is an amazingly sweet and well-behaved little girl. She listens when you tell her to do something.
But anyway, enough of that. I got off subject again.
You know me, I say and write whatever pops into my mind.
But all the stuff about her abuse I wrote about: that's all I know about.
There may be more that I don't know about because I did see other bruises but didn't know where they came from. I couldn't ask the doctors because, even though I had proof and the support of several police officers, they started looking at me like I was crazy and hurting her for attention.
What is that called?
Not postpartum depression.
Ummm… Munch something or other. I can't remember.
I would NEVER hurt Ariel or Andrew—even though there were days I felt like beating his butt. Moreso after Ariel was born.
You have to believe me.
I'm sorry.
If you can figure out more about what else may have happened to Ariel, please do.
And if you need or want more information, call Chief Officer Westley or his partner Officer Pinkit.
They know everything about me, Ariel, and our family. I never told them; Officer Westley found out and confronted me. He knew and hated my family, but we formed a relationship. Oh, but not that kind: he's married with four kids. And Officer Pinkit used to date an uncle, but he cheated on her. So, along with other information she had, she started blackmailing them—threatening to tell everyone how they were and everything like that.
I didn't ask for details-I didn't want any. I wanted nothing to do with them. And I want them not to have anything to do with Ariel, or her them, for her safety.
Having met that kid once, I get the feeling that once he had Ariel in his grasp, he'd force himself on her as soon as possible.
So, please.
Please, if you don't take her in, find someone you would trust with your life to take care of her and Haru.
Chief Officer Westley's contact information:
Office Number: (***) ***-****
Work Phone: (***) ***-****
Cell Phone: (***) ***-****
Officer Pinkit's contact information:
Office Number: (***) ***-****
Work Phone: (***) ***-****
Cell Phone: (***) ***-****
I won't bother giving you email addresses.
Tessa.
"She most certainly does still write what she has on her mind. It seems she was just as frazzled until the very end like she always had been." Gibbs mumbled, reading the letter containing what Tessa knew about Ariel's abuse. Also, in certain parts of the letter—all of the letters, Gibbs noted that Tessa had been crying because there were tear stains.
In one of the folders, there was a note marked HARU & MIKU and some paperwork.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs,
This is just a quick note regarding Haru and Miku.
I believe the first time you came over, I warned you about Haru and how protective he could be, so it may be best you back off or stay away from him. But he went right up to you, sniffed, and laid beside your feet. Like, "Hey, I like him. I have a new best friend." Or, as you later found out, he just wanted to pee in your shoes. But you never seemed to mind.
I got him from a breeder—a lovely little old lady and her sons down the street who were running from her ex-husband/their father. He was the one who bred and abused the dogs and puppies. So, they left and took every animal they had.
I just happened to get the last dog and cat they had left:
Haru: he is a mix of Siberian Husky and Australian Shepherd.
Miku: I was told she was a purebred Cashmere Bengal cat. That means she looks like a basic Bengal cat with longer, softer fur. But on a trip to the vet one day, I found out she is or was a mix between a Bengal cat and a Himalayan cat.
I had a feeling she wasn't a purebred Bengal; her fur was too fluffy. But what do I know? I just went with it.
But anyway, she went missing a few weeks ago. My only guess would be that she got out the night of the attack, got lost, killed, or taken in by someone. As crappy as it is, I hope someone took her in because I'd rather have that than the other two options. But the vets and Officer Westley said they'd watch for her. They have your number in case they find her.
Don't bring Miku up around Ariel.
I felt so awful because she loved Miku just as much as Haru. She was devastated when we couldn't find her; she wouldn't stop crying for days.
I thought of getting her a new kitten of her very own, but I realized that Miku had become her cat. Miku liked Ariel more than me; she'd sleep in her crib with her. It would piss Haru off because he couldn't get in the crib with them.
So, if you get a call from New Jersey, answer it because it may be about Miku.
But moving on:
Somewhere in the folder, you should find an adoption application from a shelter in New Jersey. Except for your address and a name, it has all your information.
I need you to legally change Haru's name to something else.
Again, it's for safety reasons.
I have had Haru for five years; he'll turn six on October 15th. Everyone in my family knows his name and what he looks like. There's too much of a coincidence of everything going on, and they would somehow figure out Ariel's still alive.
Yeah, yeah, yeah:
I know you don't believe in coincidences, but I do.
So, please. Change his name for Ariel's safety.
Oh, and he goes with her wherever she goes.
And if you ever get Miku back, there are also papers there for her.
So, the same rules apply to her. That means changing her name as well.
Tessa.
As Tessa wrote, Gibbs found three VHS tapes at the bottom of the bag. He also found three disks with two sticky notes.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs,
I know you're not really into new technology
or anything like that,
but these are DVDs.
I sent them along with the VHS tapes
just in case the tapes get destroyed.
The DVDs are backups
of what are on the tapes
because I'm pretty sure VHS tapes
will become obsolete.
Time just keeps moving on
along with technology.
Tessa.
The second sticky note contained the address and coordinates to a small storage unit over an hour and a half away. Tessa noted that she had slowly started squirreling some of Ariel's favorite things away over the past week.
"No offense, but how can we tell if what Tessa wrote is true? Or how can we tell if she was really the one who wrote any of those notes?" Caitlin questioned, narrowing her eyes after reading one of the letters.
"I know Tessa's handwriting. I still have a birthday card from her; I could bring it in and have it matched to the writing in the letters, notes, and post-its. Plus, I knew exactly how she wrote—scatterbrained. And after reading everything, I can see spots where tears fell. Sure, they can be faked, but not these." Gibbs firmly answered, standing up.
"There we go. All done. I think your dad has your clothes." Ducky spoke, sitting Ariel up.
"What'd you find?" Gibbs questioned, laying Ariel back down to get her shorts up.
"A lot of healing bruises—and several bite marks." Ducky answered with a sad sigh.
"Bite marks? From the dog or cat?" Tony questioned, hoping it was an animal.
"No. Grown adults. And by the shapes and sizes, they were made by at least three different men. They were older, but there was just enough indentation left to where I could get some molds. With how small she is, and how deep the bite marks were, they could've been there as long as a month or even two ago." Ducky answered and sadly explained.
Suddenly, the sliding doors opened out of nowhere. However, it didn't look like anybody was there.
"That's odd. Is anyone out there?" Ducky questioned, leaning to peer out the door as Gibbs, Tony, and Caitlin started preparing to get their guns.
"Eeeee!" Ariel made some kind of happy screeching noise.
A few seconds later, a cat resembling a fluffy leopard jumped onto the exam table next to Ariel. It just started rubbing up against her.
"It has a collar—with a note." Ducky informed Gibbs.
"GUN!" Caitlin yelled, looking through the sliding glass door to see a man with a gun…