The silence in the room was longer this time, all eyes pinned on me. No one said a word or moved a muscle; they just sat there, watching. My request had clearly struck a nerve, and I’d walked a line I couldn’t uncross.
Some of the panelists were skeptical; others were uneasy. And somewhere at the back, a strange man was watching me, not like a student but like a problem.
My heart skipped a beat when I spotted him, but I didn’t shake. I gathered my papers with careful hands and stepped down from the podium. I wasn’t sure what was going on in their heads, and I didn’t even want to know.
I’d made my point and tendered my request. Nothing else to say or do here. On my way out, I didn’t look at the panel members or the audience. I just headed toward the door.
I breathed a sigh of relief the second I stepped out of the hearing room. With my hand on my chest, I struggled to catch my breath as my heart pounded against my ribs.
“Congrats, you didn’t completely crash and burn,” a familiar voice said to me.
I turned, and there she was, leaning against the wall, arms folded with a crooked grin tugging at her lips.
“You’re unbelievable,” I said, mirroring her smile. “You said you weren’t gonna make it.”
“So what? I lied,” Aria said, shrugging. “Sue me.” She pushed off the wall and walked toward me.
I let a soft exhale, shooting a quick glance at the hearing room. “How’d I do in there?”
“Well, you just accused a closed federal case of being staged.” She stopped in front of me. “And you did that in a room full of people who built their careers defending the very systems you pointed your finger at.”
“Oh, God, I’m fucked.” I lowered my head in dismay, fear creeping into my mind.
“Come off it.” She tapped my shoulder. “That was a pretty bold move for an overly cautious girl. You just made yourself an enemy of the system. I’m proud.”
I raised my brows, unsure how to feel about that statement. “That’s not exactly comforting.”
“Yeah, it’s not supposed to be.” Her lips curled into a mysterious grin.
“Aria, I’m serious.”
“Relax,” she said, taking my hand. “You didn’t do anything wrong, other than piss off the people who have the power to fail you.”
“Not funny!” My face turned ugly, and I pulled away from her.
She laughed. Laughed still as she hurried behind me, trying to catch up. “Hey, wait up.”
“Fuck off!” I kept going, my heels clicking against the fine, polished floor.
“Can’t do that; you’re stuck with me.” She appeared in front of me, arms wide open, smiling from ear to ear. “Listen, I wasn’t kidding when I said I was proud of what you did in there.”
Her words melted my heart, and her broad smile was slowly easing my anxiety.
Aria was my exact opposite. She was bold, fearless, funny, and relentlessly so. The 22-year-old journalism student was inquisitive to a fault. She was five-foot-five with a naturally soft, feminine build.
Her blonde hair fell in loose, messy waves, and her striking blue eyes were far too observant for her own good. Although just a year older, Aria Bennett played the role of both a friend and a big sister in my life.
The girl was a blessing to me. All round.
“Coffee?” she asked. “You look like you need three.”
I chuckled. “Make it four.”
“Come on.” She nodded toward the exit. “Let’s go to Joe’s.”
Joe’s was a café downtown where I worked as a part-time barista.
As we headed out of the building, I glanced back one more time at the hearing room. The panelists didn’t know this. But this wasn’t just a university project for me. It was also a fight for justice because I’d met Vetrov’s relatives.
