"What about Maya?" I ask. "Does she still have to testify?"
"There's a victim impact statement at sentencing; she can give one if she wants. But the criminal trial's off the table since he's pleading guilty, she won't have to face him in court unless she chooses to."
Relief floods through me, so intense my knees almost buckle. Maya won't have to sit in a courtroom and relive the worst day of her life while lawyers tear apart her testimony. She won't have to face Carson across a witness stand.
"Thank god."
"There's one condition. Maya has to agree not to pursue a civil suit against Carson or the hospital. They're apparently going to offer a settlement in exchange for her silence."
The relief evaporates. Of course, there's a condition, there always is.
"How much?"
"Half a million. Tax-free. Plus, they'll seal all records related to her case."
Half a million dollars. Enough to start over, enough to never worry about money again.
But also hush money, buying her silence.
"I need to talk to her."
"Do it soon. They want an answer by the end of the week."
I find Maya in the NICU, standing at Sofia's isolette. She's been here every day, sometimes for twelve hours straight, and Emma jokes that Maya's better at reading the monitors than half the nurses.
"Hey," I say quietly. "Can we talk?"
She turns, concern flickering across her face when she sees my expression. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. I just need to talk to you about something."
She follows me to the family waiting room. Small, private, empty this time of day. I close the door behind us, and she immediately tenses, reading something in my expression.
"Carson's dropping the assault charges," I tell her. "He's taking a plea deal. Five to seven years."
The blood drains from her expression. "He's going to prison?"
"Yes. Three other women came forward; they have evidence. The prosecutor gave him a choice: plead guilty or face trial. He's pleading guilty."
"Three other women." She sits down hard on one of the chairs, like her legs won't hold her anymore. "He did this to three other women."
"That we know of, could be more."
She's quiet for a long moment, processing, and I can see her trying to wrap her mind around it. Three other women who went through what she went through, three other lives Carson destroyed.
"You're not going to jail."
The relief in her voice is palpable. "No. I'm not going to jail."
"Your career..."
"Is probably fine. Coach called yesterday, said once the legal stuff is resolved, I'm cleared to return to practice. No criminal record means I can keep playing."
"The captaincy?"
I shake my head, and it still stings even though I knew it was coming. "That's gone. But I can still play, that's more than I expected."
She touches the pendant through her clothes.
