Evelyn Becker

Words That Hurt

The Arrow, Shot, Cannot Be Called Back


The meeting room at the Shelter for Help in Emergency was crowded and messy. I sat at a shaky conference table, next to a junior attorney from the Charlottesville-Albemarle Legal Aid Society, when a thin woman in a cotton sundress and drug-store flip flops came into the room and took a seat opposite us. She looked tired, timeworn, but according to her paperwork she was just a few years older than I was. I was a first-year law student, 22.

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