Maya looked back toward campus. For the first time that evening, the university didn't look like somewhere she was escaping from. It looked like somewhere she might still have a reason to return. Back in her dorm room an hour later, Maya lifted the folded clothes out of the suitcase one piece at a time. Monica watched from her desk.
You staying until the hearing and after, Maya placed Walter's old jacket back in the closet. One truth at a time. Then Monica's phone buzzed, a message from an unfamiliar number. She opened it. Her face changed.
What? Monica turned the screen toward Maya. It was Jason. I need to talk to you, not on campus. Tyler can't know.
Maya read it twice. Below the message was a second line. I deleted the video. Her hope collapsed. Then a third message arrived.
But I think my phone backed it up first. Maya looked at Monica. Outside, Thunder rolled somewhere beyond Richmond. The suitcase remained open on the bed. But nothing was inside it anymore.
Monica read Jason's message one more time. I deleted the video. But I think my phone backed it up first. Maya stood beside her desk, still holding the last folded shirt she had removed from the suitcase. Call him.
Monica shook her head. He said not on campus. Then ask where. Jason replied less than a minute later. A 24 hour diner off Broad Street.
20 minutes. Maya reached for her jacket. Monica stopped her. He asked for me. He was recording what happened to me.
And Tyler knows your face. Maya understood. It was enough already. If Tyler or one of his friends saw him meeting Maya, he might disappear again. I'll stay close.
Maya said. The diner sat beneath the red neon sign that buzzed in the rain. Inside, coffee steamed behind the counter. Forks clinked against thick white plates. An old ceiling fan turned slowly above half empty booths.
Maya took a table near the front window. Monica slid into a booth at the back. Jason arrived six minutes later wearing a hooded sweatshirt darkened by rain. He looked over both shoulders before entering. Monica stood.
Jason didn't sit right away. You didn't tell her? She knows I'm here. Jason looked toward the windows. Where?
Not close enough to hear. That seemed to satisfy him. Barely. He sat. For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Monica asked, did Tyler tell you to delete it? Jason rubbed both hands over his face. Not Tyler. Who one of his dad's people? Monica went still.
Jason lowered his voice. After the reception, Tyler kept asking for my phone. I wouldn't give it to him. Later that night, I got a call from a number I didn't know. What did they say?
That anything recorded at a private donor event could create legal problems. Jason gave a bitter laugh. Then they said it would be better for everyone if I deleted it. Better for who? They didn't say.
They didn't need to. Jason looked down. The next morning, Tyler texted me. Said his dad had everything under control. Monica leaned forward.
Why didn't you give the video to Susan? Because Tyler's my teammate. That didn't answer me. Jason's jaw tightened because Richard Grant knows half the people who decide whether guys like me ever play another season. Monica stared at him.
So you deleted it. Jason nodded. I hated myself the second I did. At the front of the diner, Maya watched raindrops race down the glass. She couldn't hear the words, but she could read shame in Jason's posture.
She knew that shape by now. Monica had worn it. Ethan had worn it. Half the room at the reception had worn it. Fear didn't always make people cruel.
Sometimes it simply made them late. Monica asked, what about the backup? Jason pulled out his phone. I use automatic cloud storage because I lost everything in the air. His thumb moved across the screen.
I didn't think about it until tonight. The loading circle spun, then stopped. Jason's face changed. Oh God, Monica leaned closer. What?
He turned the phone. A video file appeared. 32 minutes, time stamped Saturday night. Original resolution. Play it.
Jason hesitated. Play it. The diner noise faded beneath the tiny speaker. Tyler's voice came first. Laughing.
Mocking Ethan. The camera shifted. There was the spilled drink. Tyler stepping forward. Ethan apologizing.
Then Linda. That's enough. Jason froze the video. His eyes filled with disbelief. He was witnessing it in a crowded room.
Monica whispered, keep going. Tyler pushed Linda aside. Ethan stepped in. Tyler shoved him into the chair. Then Maya entered the frame.
Even through the phone, her voice was clear. That's enough. Jason's breathing became shallow. She turned. You going to do something about it?
The phone captured everything. Lighter reaching. Maya warning him. Let go. Tyler pulling harder.
Then the movement. Fast. Controlled. Two seconds. Tyler down.
Maya releasing him. Maya immediately kneeling beside Ethan. Then Tyler's voice. She attacked me. Jason stopped the video.
Nobody spoke. Jason's face. Monica looked at Jason. You have to give this to David. Jason nodded.
I know and Susan. I know and you need to tell them who called you. Jason's eyes dropped. I don't have a recording of the call. You have the number.
I blocked it. Blocked isn't deleted. Jason looked at her. Monica held his gaze. Being scared explains why you waited.
It doesn't decide what you do next. For the first time, Jason looked less frightened. Not brave yet. But moving toward it, he emailed the original file to David while they sat in the booth. Then he forwarded it to Susan.
Then after another long pause, he took screenshots of Tyler's messages. Across the diner, Maya's phone buzzed. David. She answered quietly. I've got it.
Her throat tightened. All of it. All of it. Maya closed her eyes. For three seconds, she said nothing.
The relief was too large to fit into words. David continued. And Maya, yes, you did exactly what you said you did. A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it. She wiped it away quickly.