I’ve been through reviews before. Minor ones. Paperwork errors. Judgment calls questioned and ultimately upheld. This feels different. This feels heavier, not because I think I’m wrong, but because I know exactly how much I’m willing to lose over it.
No regrets whatsoever. I couldn’t pretend to regret it if I tried.
The door opens again, and Kabougeris gestures for me to step out. The hallway is narrow and fluorescent-lit, the kind of institutional space that strips everything down to essentials.
Harper is sitting on a hard plastic chair against the wall, hands clasped tightly in her lap.
What the hell is she doing here?
The moment she sees me, she’s on her feet, relief flashing across her face so fast it hurts to watch. Her eyes search mine immediately, looking for signs of damage.
I give her a small shake of my head.
Kabougeris utters, “You can wait here. Deliberation shouldn’t take too long.” He saunters into the office at the end of the hall.
She nods, biting her lip, clearly fighting the urge to ask questions right there.
I admire her restraint. I have none. “What are you doing here? Where’s Mason?”
“Carlie again.” Her shoulders sag just a fraction. “This is my fault, so I wasn’t about to stay home.”
“No,” I say immediately. “We have talked about this.”
She looks at me, guilt etched deep. “If I hadn’t?—”
“If you hadn’t fired a man for stealing,” I cut in, keeping my voice low but firm, “he would have kept stealing. And maybe he would have escalated anyway. He was nuts. You saw that. You could have looked at him funny, and he might have gone off. You will never know. Stop playing what-if.”
She swallows hard and nods, but I can tell she doesn’t fully believe it yet.
Another door opens, and Morales appears, his expression neutral. He gives Harper a brief nod, then looks at me. “They’re ready.”
I squeeze Harper’s hand once, then follow him back into the room. This time, everyone is seated. The investigators exchange a glance before Broadstreet speaks. “After reviewing the testimony and evidence, we’ve reached a decision.”
I sit straighter, bracing myself.
“You will receive a formal reprimand,” he continues. “This will be placed in your personnel file.”
I absorb that without reaction.
“You will also be suspended for two weeks without pay.”
No matter how prepared you think you are, it still sucks to be on the receiving end of bullshit.
“However, we will not be pursuing demotion.”
A breath I didn’t realize I was holding leaves my chest slowly.
“This could have been worse,” Kabougeris says. His voice goes flat, like even he isn’t buying it. “A few of us think your actions created risk.” He gives Broadstreet a sly glance. “But they also contributed to the arrest of a dangerous individual. That matters.”
Morales doesn’t smile, but I catch the subtle shift in his posture. Relief.
Broadstreet adds, “You have your role. Investigators and IA have theirs. It is vital that we stick to our roles.”
“So you say,” Morales mutters indignantly.
The meeting wraps up quickly after that. Paperwork. Signatures. Official language that turns something personal into something procedural.
When I finally step back into the hallway, Harper is waiting, eyes wide and anxious. “Well?”
