Emily Zaballos found herself in a sterile, uninviting room. The absence of windows amplified the feeling of isolation as she sat at a bare table, steeling herself for another round of questioning by the police. The date was April 2020, a month after she had filed a devastating rape report, accusing Marshawn Curtis of the crime.
This wasn’t her first encounter with law enforcement regarding the alleged assault. Zaballos had already recounted the harrowing events of that night to officers, reliving the trauma each time she spoke. Yet, here she was, summoned to the station once more, this time by Detective Angela Carter, who claimed to have additional questions.
The interview began formally, with both audio and video recording devices capturing every word, every nuance of emotion. Detective Carter initiated the conversation by stating that she had thoroughly reviewed the existing evidence and had also spoken with Marshawn Curtis. She then confronted Zaballos, pointing out discrepancies between her initial statement to the responding officer and her subsequent account to the detective herself.
"So, the reason I wanted to bring you in here is because I reviewed everything that we have so far. I talked to Curtis and everything like that," Carter stated, her tone professional yet firm. "I reviewed the video camera footage from the officer. You told him something different than you told me. … I need you to walk me through literally from when he got there to when he left. Everything that happened."
The detective’s line of questioning focused intensely on the details of the evening. She pressed Zaballos about her alcohol consumption, demanding specifics about the amount she had imbibed. She then shifted her focus to Zaballos’s actions, or rather, her perceived inaction. Why hadn’t she asked Curtis to leave? Why hadn’t she forcefully ejected him from her home?
These questions, laden with implied judgment, chipped away at Zaballos’s resolve. With each answer, her voice grew softer, almost imperceptible. The pauses between her responses stretched longer, heavy with unspoken pain and the weight of reliving the trauma. Tears welled up in her eyes, betraying the emotional toll of the interrogation.
And then came the question that seemed to encapsulate the entire ordeal, the question that revealed the underlying cynicism of the system: "Let me ask you a serious question: Do you want to prosecute on this?"
Zaballos’s response was a raw, honest expression of her conflicting emotions. "I don’t want him to think this behavior is OK. But I just don’t want to f—ing relive this."
Her words spoke volumes about the impossible position in which she found herself. She desired justice, she wanted to prevent Curtis from harming others, but the prospect of enduring a protracted legal battle, of being subjected to further scrutiny and judgment, was simply too much to bear.
Carter, however, remained relentless. Interrupting Zaballos, she pressed, "So how do you want to go forward? What do you want to do from here?"
Zaballos, now visibly distressed, struggled to articulate her wishes. "I don’t want to go through all this all over again, over and over, because at this point –"
But Carter cut her off, demanding a definitive answer. "I need an answer," she insisted. "Do you want him to go to jail? Do you want to prosecute for this?"
Zaballos, her voice choked with emotion, finally succumbed to the weight of the situation. "I don’t want to go through this. … This is just too much for me right now."
"So you don’t want to prosecute for this?" Carter reiterated, seeking explicit confirmation.
After a long pause, filled with sniffling and deep breaths, Zaballos whispered, "No. I want it to go away."
The detective’s response was perfunctory, devoid of empathy. "All right. I see you’re upset. Do you have any more questions for me?"
Zaballos simply shook her head, her silence a testament to her emotional exhaustion.
"So at this point, what will happen is the case will be unfounded," Carter declared, her tone clinical. "It will be closed, and then no one should contact you in reference to this anymore. OK?"
And with that, Zaballos’s case was effectively dismissed, relegated to the ever-growing pile of untested rape kits and unresolved sexual assault allegations. Her desire for justice, her hope for accountability, had been sacrificed on the altar of expediency.
This disheartening scenario marks the beginning of "Untested," a new podcast from USA TODAY in cooperation with WITNESS. The podcast follows the story of Detective Annie Harrison, who discovers that Marshawn Curtis, the man Zaballos accused, has been linked by DNA evidence to another rape complaint, this one originating 800 miles away.
Driven by a deep sense of justice, Detective Harrison takes Zaballos under her wing, enlisting her as an ally in her pursuit of the truth. Throughout the five episodes of "Untested," listeners are taken on a journey as Harrison meticulously tracks the suspected rapist from Georgia to Michigan, navigating the complexities of the legal system and confronting the systemic failures that often prevent justice from being served. The podcast promises to be a gripping and insightful exploration of the challenges faced by sexual assault survivors and the unwavering dedication of those who fight to bring perpetrators to justice.
