“I didn’t do anything,” I tell him. “I never did anything to Austin. Nothing to justify—” I wave a hand through the air. “All this.”
“Are you sure?” he pushes. “Have you had any prior altercations with him, or either of the other two men involved?”
Chewing my bottom lip, I hesitate. “Nothing related to?—”
He cuts me off. “Austin’s family has implied that you’re fixated on ruining their son’s reputation. They claim false allegations have been made?—”
“Stop!” I tell him. My heart pounds a rapid staccato in my chest. How does he know? He shouldn’t— No one else is supposed to know about that night.
My eyes snap to my parents, but all I see is confusion etched across their faces.
“I’m not trying to ruin Austin’s life,” I tell him. “I’ve never made false allegations against him.”
He flips through his notebook. “I have it here that allegations were made to PacNorth University’s?—”
“It wasn’t false,” I cut him off, my chest heaving.
Thankfully, Mr. Ayala interjects. “I’d like a moment alone with my client.”
“That won’t be—” Officer Koch begins, but Mr. Ayala doesn’t let him finish.
“I’ll have to insist.” He pushes to his feet. “Ms. Russo, would you join me?”
Numbly, I follow him past our living room and down the hallway into my father’s study.
Sweat beads on my forehead, my palms clammy and slick. I feel dizzy, disoriented, as if the ground beneath me could give way at any moment.
Mr. Ayala closes the door behind us and my eyes snap to it. “Open,” I snap. Taking a breath, I try again. “Sorry,” I mutter. “But can we leave the door open?”
He scrutinizes me before cracking the door a fraction of an inch. Then he moves to the opposite side of the room, leaving a clear path for me to leave should I want to.
“Is this better?” he asks.
I nod. “Yes. Thank you.”
He leans against my dad’s desk, bracing himself on the edge. “I can’t adequately protect you if I don’t know the full story, so I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?”
I’m not sure I have much of a choice, so I nod.
“Can you give me the short version of what Officer Koch was alluding to in there?”
“Austin, Parker, and Gregory raped me at a frat party last summer.”
He blinks. I’ve taken him by surprise.
“And you disclosed this information to …”
“PacNorth’s Administration,” I tell him. “I reported it in the Title Nine office.”
He nods. “And what came of it?”
Bitterness coats the back of my throat. “Nothing. They didn’t believe me.”
“And the police?”
I shake my head. “I didn’t go to them,” I tell him. “If the school didn’t believe me, I assumed no one else would.”
“Are your parents aware?”
