But it's a start.
The tears have stopped. My hands have stopped shaking. I gather the notebooks into a pile and stack them neatly on the counter, and when I finally stand up my legs are stiff from sitting on the cold floor for too long.
Day ten ends with me climbing into bed as the sky starts to lighten outside my window. I don't sleep, but I close my eyes anyway.
Tomorrow I'll try again.
I do try again. Each morning the same phone call, the same voicemail, the same silence where a response should be. By day sixteen, Gage finds me in the parking lot.
I've been sitting in the Greenridge parking lot for an hour, forehead pressed against the steering wheel, when the knock on my window makes me jump.
Gage is standing outside, still in uniform. He gestures for me to roll down the window, and when I do the cold air hits my face and I flinch.
"You've been here every day," he says.
"Yep."
"They're not going to let you in."
"I know."
He's quiet for a moment. His eyes move over my face. Then he walks around to the passenger side and gets in.
The car feels smaller with him in it. He doesn't say anything. Just sits there, looking straight ahead through the windshield.
"He's not doing very well in there," he says.
My stomach drops. "How bad?"
"Pretty bad." Gage goes still. "The sedation's heavy. They've got him on a six-hour chemical stack, and even when it thins out he's not... he's not present. Not the way he was before."
"They're punishing him."
"Yeah."
"For protecting me."
Gage turns his head. Looks at me for the first time since he got in the car. "For protecting you," he agrees. "And for proving he could get through their security when he wanted to. They're scared of him now. More than before."
"He stopped because you told him to stop." My voice comes out fierce. "He could have killed him. He didn't."
"I know."
"But they're treating him like he did."
"I know, Hope."
The silence stretches. Outside, the parking lot is emptying as the day shift ends and the night shift arrives.
"Kent's building a case," I say. "The privileges restriction request was on Hudson's desk before the incident. They had warning about Casey and they did nothing. That's negligence. That's—"
"I know what it is."
"Then help me." I turn in my seat to face him. "Help me get him out."
Gage doesn't blink. "You're asking me to testify against the facility I work for."
"I'm asking you to tell the truth about what happened. You were there. You saw Casey's hands on me. You saw Jude stop when you told him to stop." I lean forward. "You're the only witness who can confirm that he had control. That he wasn't just violent—he was targeted, and he stopped the moment it needed to stop."
