Chapter Twenty-Two
Harley - Present Day
While I had rearranged the appointments for today that I could, so I could focus on the things I needed to do, certain ones would cause me more issues in the long run if I didn't show up. Once I’ve finished with them, I open my laptop and pull up the template I use for patients’ notes after a session.
Using the information Quinn gave me the other night, I create a folder of notes spanning the last few months with a little bit of exaggeration here and there, in the hopes that the judge will be empathetic with her current situation.
I include little snippets of the abuse from her family, the lack of a healthy support system, and my concerns over time about how she is escalating and that I have fears she will harm herself unless overseen by a medical professional she trusts outside of the toxicity of her home environment.
I write a statement to show I’m willing and more than able to complete that treatment and offer her a safe space to stay.
I built an annex in my back garden purely for this reason.
For someone to stay over every so often or for a building to be used as a home office, there are fewer rules, regulations, and permits.
For longer stays, it has to be a permanent dwelling, so you have to have things like adequate heating and sanitation, and it must be anchored to the ground and meet fire safety standards.
The first step to getting someone into the network is a two-day decompression stay.
A chance for them to be able to get out of fight-or-flight mode and learn a few tips and tricks to enable their success once they’re on their way to their new life.
So, because of this part of the process, we figured it would be safest if I had a property in the back of mine so whoever was staying in it had twenty-four-hour access to therapy and security.
My entire property is alarmed, with cameras at every possible angle.
My neighbours obviously have known me since I was a child, so for them it took a bit of explaining as to why I was attempting to recreate Fort Knox, but once I mentioned helping survivors of abuse, they stopped asking questions and asked what they could do to help.
Sometimes, those two days become a week, and other times it becomes an hour because they can’t cope with the quiet and they go home to their abusers.
They’re not prisoners here, and no matter how much we may want to help them, sometimes, they’re just not ready.
In a lot of instances, survivors of abuse find the quiet the most intimidating.
Inside their home, with their abuser, they know or have managed to figure out most of the triggers, but silence, especially from a man who is both physically abusive and emotionally abusive, is an instance that is few and far between, unless it’s being used as punishment.
Even when sleeping, a survivor will be on high alert waiting for a hand around their throat, or to be pulled out of bed by their hair, or even in some instances a fist to the face because their abuser has found a secret folder of evidence, or deleted messages, or in the worst case scenarios they’ve found the hidden app we install which holds all of the information that the survivor needs to know of where to go and who to contact.
They’re never truly able to relax. So when there is silence, they’re consistently waiting for the other shoe to drop.
When it came to setting up The Trident network, we had to think of a way to keep that information handy for the survivor.
So that in that one moment when they’ve had enough, and they want to flee, the information is accessible, but with minimal chance of it being discovered.
So we decided on an app disguised as a game.
It can be tailored depending on who is fleeing to look like whatever game that individual would be into.
Once the app is open, facial recognition allows only the survivor to access the information.
But, as we know, narcissistic abusers find a way to access everything.
In the entire time we’ve been doing this, we’ve only had two instances where the abuser accessed the app, and there were no drastic consequences.
We made contact with the survivor, moved them to a new location, and the abuser was left tearing their hair out on the other side of a police interview table being interrogated.
The minute a survivor enters the network and makes a commitment to a new life, all evidence of their abuse is sent to the authorities to pursue charges.
If in the event they are called to court, we can make arrangements and be the go-between.
We also have a hidden alarm inside the app so that as soon as someone tries to access it through facial recognition that isn’t recognised, it begins an automatic shutdown procedure.
Unfortunately, the quickest we’ve been able to get that time down to is a few minutes, so there is still time for them to gain access before the information is wiped.
If in the event this happens, it reverts to just a game screen of ‘free’ levels as a trial before being asked to purchase the complete game.
Then, we make contact with the survivor under the guise of a spam call, with whatever safe phrase that person has come up with.
Some like to keep it food-specific, like a takeaway, and other people like to indicate a hobby, or simply a bot that’s calling because of a search they’ve made on the internet.
It hasn’t been easy, but the only way we can keep this as underground as possible is to try to personalise what we can, where we can.
During decompression, we do intensive therapy both with myself and Ted.
Unfortunately, in the UK there isn’t a formal registry for support animals, and in abusive situations many abusers of spouses and children are also abusers of animals.
You can register an animal as a support pet, but it’s not an easy process, and you must show doctor documentation.
Emotional support animals are not considered equal to assistance dogs, as they are not legally recognised, so this is a way for us to provide emotional regulation through a means that isn’t always baring your soul through talking.
Interacting with dogs can trigger the release of serotonin, oxytocin, and dopamine, reducing stress and promoting emotional regulation, therefore enabling the survivor to be able to decompress and work through those first couple of days with realistic expectations of what’s next.
Once someone enters the network, they must cut off everyone in their life.
No friends or family may know where you are, and if there is contact with someone from their past life—unless completely accidental, which is highly unlikely—they will be removed from the programme with immediate effect.
While we want to keep each individual safe, not respecting the rules of our organisation puts every single survivor and volunteer at risk, and that is something neither Lulu nor I will accept.
When each person/family is moved through the network, they work their way through a number of checkpoints on the way to hopefully their forever home.
And they are always situated far from home but with a volunteer in the vicinity for emergency contact.
They always have a cover story and must act like strangers in public until a realistic relationship has been formed.
We also have an in-house security team that helps with extractions from place to place, and retrieving the few belongings we suggest that they pack.
Important papers, irreplaceable items and some clothes.
No phones or anything trackable. Although we scan all items to make sure nothing is hidden in them, anyway.
Every property that these people are sent to is fully stocked with food, drink, and toys for the kids.
Upon assessment, we ask the adults what things they dream of doing or hobbies they would love if they had the chance, and then we make sure they have a little bit of what they’ve been dreaming about to keep them distracted in the silence.
Once my statement is complete and a treatment plan written out, I slide it into an envelope and grab my things.
It’s teatime for most households, so her family should be home, but I have no idea what I’m walking into.
There’s a huge part of me hoping Quinn has been exaggerating about her home life and I’m going to discover a happy little family that just wants their daughter to get better.
But if my past experience is anything to go by, the smaller part of me that’s shouting louder than anything else is telling me that what Quinn has relayed is only a tiny fraction of the abuse she’s been subjected to.
And if that’s the case, then things are about to get a lot fucking worse.