The difference is, this time I get to choose.
Me: We need to talk. Are you free for lunch?
Sawyer: Always. Everything okay?
I fold the statement and put it in my purse.
Me: I’ll explain when I see you.
I’m sitting across from Sawyer at a corner table in the small diner on Main Street. He’s still in uniform, and I can see the concern in his dark brown eyes.
“What’s going on?” he asks.
I pull the folded statement from my purse and slide it across the table. “My mother paid me a visit at work.”
Sawyer unfolds the paper and reads it, his jaw tightening. “She wants you to withdraw your statement against Lance.”
“And if I don’t, Lance’s family is going to file a complaint against you with expensive lawyers.”
He sets the paper down and looks at me. “What did you tell her?” His expression is calm, but I can see the tension in his jaw.
“That I needed to think about it. But she gave me until tomorrow.”
“And what are you thinking?”
I study his face, looking for any sign that he wants me to just sign the paper and make this go away. But all I see is quiet determination.
“Two days ago, I was ready to walk away from you to protect your career,” I say slowly. “Now my mother is asking me to let Lance walk free for the same reason.”
“Those are very different things.”
“Are they? Both choices are about putting your career ahead of what’s right.”
Sawyer leans forward. “Alice, what do you want to do?”
I push my glasses up, taking a shaky breath. “I want Lance to face consequences for what he did. I want my mother to stop choosing him over me. And I want to stop being afraid that every choice I make will destroy someone’s life.” My voice cracks on the last word.
“Then don’t sign it.”
“But the complaint—”
“Let them file it. Let them bring their lawyers. I did my job, Alice. I have nothing to hide.”
The waitress comes over, and we order quickly. After she leaves, Sawyer reaches across the table and takes my hand.
“Alice, your mother is betting that you’ll choose my career over your own sense of justice. She’s counting on you being too scared to fight back.”
Part of me wants to sign it. To make this all go away. To protect him the only way I know how.
By disappearing.
“What if she’s right?”
“Then we’ll figure it out. But I don’t think you are.”
I look down at our joined hands. “I don’t want to be the reason your career gets destroyed.”
“You won't be. If my career gets hurt, it'll be because they're trying to intimidate a victim into silence. That's on them, not you.”
