Justice and Scars
The police followed up quickly. Tests confirmed what Dr. Reynolds had suspected — a chemical irritant had been smeared onto David’s work shirt. Something corrosive, industrial-grade.
Security footage from the site’s changing area revealed everything. Rick Dawson — the same foreman who had threatened David — was caught on camera entering the trailer moments before David did.
He was arrested two days later.
When I got the call, I didn’t know what to feel. Relief? Rage? Maybe both.
All that pain, all those nights of fear and guilt — because one man wanted to punish another for being honest.
David returned home weeks later. The wounds had healed, but faint red circles still patterned his back — a permanent reminder of betrayal.
Some nights, I’d catch him tracing those scars in the mirror, lost in thought.
“Does it still hurt?” I’d ask softly.
He’d smile faintly. “Not the way it used to.”
Then, after a long pause, he’d add, “Maybe God wanted to remind me what matters most.”
