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Star's eyes flicked toward Sheila, a mixture of caution and hope in her gaze. "Can you really do that?"
"I can try," Sheila replied, feeling a surge of protectiveness for the troubled girl.
"I don't want to go to jail," Star said in a low voice. Sheila could hear the unease in the girl's tone.
"I don't want that for you, either. Let's see if we can't talk our way out of this, shall we?"
Sheila knocked on the window. Officer Attleton opened the door and let her out, his face still contorted with annoyance. "You sure got your hands full with that rotten brat," he muttered.
"There's something you need to understand," Sheila began, choosing her words carefully. "Star's had it difficult at home. She doesn't have a dependable father figure in her life, and she's just trying to find her way."
"That doesn't excuse her actions," Paul said, folding his arms across his chest.
"Of course not. But I believe that if we show her some understanding and support, we might be able to help her change her path. Sometimes that's all someone needs—a chance to prove they can be better."
Paul stared back at her, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"Please," Sheila said, her eyes searching his face for any hint of sympathy. "I know it's not easy, but if you could find it in your heart to give her a chance, I promise I'll do everything I can to help guide her in the right direction."
Paul hesitated, clearly struggling with the decision. He glanced back at the squad car where Star sat, still looking sullen and defiant. "It's not that simple, Ms. Stone," he finally said. "If we let her off the hook now, what kind of message does that send? That she can just keep breaking the law, and someone will always bail her out?"
"I understand your concern," Sheila conceded, her voice soft but unwavering. "But sometimes showing kindness can make all the difference. Right now, Star sees herself as alone against the world. If we push her away, she'll only become more hardened and entrenched in her ways. But if we show her that there are people who care and believe in her potential…" She trailed off, allowing the officer to imagine the possibilities.
Paul was still staring at Star. "I've got a niece of my own about that age," he said in a softer voice. "I guess that if she fell in with the wrong crowd, I'd want someone looking out for her, too."
Sheila waited, not wishing to push Paul any more than she already had.
"Alright," he relented after a long pause. "I'll give her a break—this time. But if she messes up again, my hands are tied."
"Thank you," Sheila said warmly, gratitude filling her chest. She turned back to the squad car, opening the door for Star. The teenager slid out without a word, her eyes downcast as she passed Officer Attleton.
Sheila guided Star to her own car, and they settled into the seats. As soon as the doors closed, Star crossed her arms over her chest and muttered, "I didn't need you to save me, you know. I was doing just fine on my own."
Sheila took a deep breath, trying to quell her own frustration at the girl's stubbornness. "Star," she began, her voice steady despite the surge of emotion coursing through her, "sometimes we all need a little help. It doesn't make you weak or less capable. It just means that there are people who care about you and want to see you succeed."
Star said nothing. Sheila started the car and pulled away from the shoulder, waving to Officer Attleton in passing.
"You can't fight your way out of every situation," she said to Star, the tension in her voice betraying her efforts to remain calm. The streetlights cast a dim glow over the car's interior, highlighting the stubborn set of Star's jaw as she stared out the window.
"Easy for you to say," Star shot back, her eyes still focused on the passing scenery. "You're just bitter 'cause you couldn't fight your way to success either. Olympic kickboxing failure and all that."
The words were like a punch to the gut. Sheila felt her face flush with anger, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the steering wheel. But she reminded herself that Star was young, hurting, and lashing out. She tried to swallow her own hurt and frustration.
"Life isn't always about winning or losing," she said evenly. "It's about learning from our mistakes and growing. Sometimes fighting isn't the answer."
"Whatever," Star muttered dismissively, rolling her eyes. The defiant tilt of her chin seemed to dare Sheila to challenge her further.
"Remember when you came to my gym?" Sheila asked pointedly, trying to steer the conversation in a more constructive direction. "I taught you that there's power in control, in discipline—not just throwing punches."
"Sure," Star scoffed, "and look where all that discipline got you. No gold medal, no glory. Just a has-been teaching brats like me."
The words stung, slicing through Sheila's resolve. For years, she had poured her heart and soul into her sport, training relentlessly for a dream that ultimately slipped through her fingers. To have it thrown back in her face by this angry teenager was more than she could bear.
"That's enough," she said, abruptly pulling the car over to the side of the road. She stared at Star, her eyes blazing. "Whatever you have against me, we're going to settle this right here and now."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Sheila felt the anger boiling inside her as Star's words cut through her like a knife. She had tolerated enough of this teenager's badmouthing, and now it was time to put an end to it.
