Doug had taken down the comments as soon as Lilah had asked, but it was too late. The damage was already done and it was being brought to Lilah’s door.
No one had shown up with a gun (yet), but the death threats continued to arrive – both in Lilah’s home mailbox and her email inbox (including her work and personal email accounts). One person even sent a dead rat. It had been skewered and came with a note warning Lilah that it was a preview of what was to come.
Lilah sent it to the police. She made copies of all the nasty notes and sent them to the police. She forwarded every threatening email to the police, then put them in a separate folder on her computer. She even took pictures of the notes that came in via snail mail and included those in the folder.
She wasn’t sure why she bothered maintaining this folder. Since she forwarded everything to the police (all of which they ignored as thoroughly as they had ignored that first threat that had appeared in the comments section), it seemed redundant to keep her own folder containing all the same material.
Maybe it was because the police treated it all so cavalierly that she felt the need to keep a record of her own. Still, what was she planning to do with it? A folder wouldn’t do her any good if and when one of these psychos followed through on their promise.
She supposed it gave her a small sense of satisfaction to imagine someone going through it all after she was dead. Seeing all the evidence compiled in one place would make it hard to deny that she had had good reason to be concerned. That she hadn’t been making it up or imagining it.
Not that it would do her any good when she was dead, but if she was able to prove her concerns had been valid – even if it had to be from beyond the grave – would that change their minds? Would that change how they addressed other women’s concerns? Save other women’s lives?
As Lilah pondered this she wondered if she had any other resources. There had to be someone out there who would be willing to help her.
The answer hit her with such force that she actually smacked her forehead against her palm, unable to believe she hadn’t thought of it right away. “Of course!”
To be continued…