Then she can go to hell with him.
“You’re likely not aware of this, but Austin is adopted.”
I wasn’t aware, but I also don’t see the point in telling me. He looks so much like his mother; it’s hard to believe she didn’t give birth to him. She must see the disbelief on my face.
“He’s my nephew by blood,” she tells me. “I had an older sister. We were never close. She went one direction in life, and I went the other.” She looks away and picks at a thread in her skirt. “She died shortly after giving birth to Austin. Drug overdose,” she confesses. “We’d already been estranged for years by that point, so I didn’t know Austin existed until he was already four and had been bounced around the foster care system.” She pauses to take a breath. “Nurture vs. nature. That’s what all the experts say, right?” She laughs, but it isn’t real. “I have loved that boy from the moment I laid my eyes on him. But,he had a hard start in life. And nurture can only overcome so much.”
“Why are you telling me all of this?”
Does she expect me to empathize with him? Because I can’t. I won’t. Austin Holt is a monster. His mom dying and being in the system sucks, but there are plenty of people in the world born into shitty situations every day, and they don’t grow up to become rapist assholes.
“I’m telling you so you understand where I’m coming from,” she tells me. “I failed Austin those first few years. I wasn’t there for him when he needed me. My son is not perfect, but I’m all he has in this world, and I won’t allow him to become a product of his upbringing. What he did to you was wrong, but I won’t abandon him when he needs me most. And I won’t stand by while he rots away in a prison cell.”
Our eyes lock, and it’s on the tip of my tongue to tell her I don’t care when she leans forward in her seat, her icy blue eyes holding mine.
“Five years, with the opportunity for parole. He’ll serve jail time. That’s what you said you wanted.”
I shake my head. Five years isn’t nearly enough, but … she was right. Juries don’t like to convict people like him. Austin Holt is the golden boy. Good-looking. Athletic. A model citizen in every sense if you ignore what he did to me. I’m his one black mark. That we know of at least. But with parole, there’s a good chance he’d serve less time. Austin knows how to work the system.
“It isn’t enough.”
Her lips press into a thin line. “What if I can guarantee jail time for the other two boys who were involved?”
My spine straightens.
“How?” Gregory Chambers and Parker Benson were there that night. They … did things to me. They participated. And later,when Austin tried to drown me, they were there for that, too. But they didn’t actively participate. All the police have them on is being present and playing lookout.
My family’s attorney said probation and a fine was the most likely outcome given the circumstances. It was their first offense on the record. I hate them both almost as much as I hate Austin. They deserve to be behind bars too, but until now … I hadn’t really considered it a possibility.
“That’s not for you to worry about,” Jaymin says. “But if I’m able to secure jail time for both parties, two years with the opportunity for parole, will you agree to five years for Austin?”
I consider it. Like, really consider it. If I go to trial, there’s a chance Austin might serve a longer sentence, but then Gregory and Parker walk. If I take this deal, all of them have to pay for what they did to me. It’s not enough, but if I’m honest with myself, I don’t know that anything ever would be. They took something from me. No punishment can ever give it back. At least this way?—
“I need an answer.”
“Whatever I agree to now won’t hold up in court,” I tell her. “I can still change my mind.”
“I’m aware. But I’ll take a verbal confirmation now, regardless.”
I chew on my bottom lip. “All three serve time behind bars,” I echo her earlier statement. “Five years for Austin and I want three years for Gregory and Parker.”
“I can make that happen.”
We’ll see.
“And I want all three going through court-ordered therapy upon release.” They’re already menaces to society. This way … I don’t know. Maybe other women like me will stand a chance.
Jaymin nods, her movements slow and deliberate. “I’ll ensure the necessary arrangements are made.”
Then … silence as Jaymin rises from her seat without a word and slips out of the room, her heels clicking softly against the wooden floor. The sound fades, and I’m left standing in the middle of the room, frozen, unsure of what comes next.
I turn toward the window, the heavy fabric of the curtains brushing my fingertips as I pull them further back to peer out. The alley is empty, devoid of life. No cars, no people. Just the quiet hum of a distant streetlight and the shadowy outline of buildings looming in the dusk.
The seconds tick by, painfully slow. My eyes track the flickering light at the end of the street, watching it go in and out, like my breathing. Steady, but not enough to chase away the anxiety gnawing at my insides.
I press my palm flat against the cool glass, my thoughts slipping into a dull buzz. My fingers curl into a fist, pressing harder, trying to ground myself against the growing unease.How long are they going to keep me here?
The room feels empty without her, but not in a comforting way. It’s the kind of emptiness that’s full of tension, wrapping around me like a cold hand on my throat. I clench and unclench my fists, feeling the soft satin of my dress between my fingers. I try to remember my therapist's grounding exercises.
