Chapter 26 The Choice: $50,000 Or Five Years
Harper's Pov,
"Two to five years in prison.”
“…That's what you're looking at."
Monica Chen doesn't waste time on pleasantries.
She appeared to be younger than I expected. Mid-thirties, sharp blazer, hair pulled back so tight it probably gives her migraines. The kind of lawyer who bills by the six-minute increment and never wastes a single one.
Next to me, sat Maya on the burgundy couch, leg bouncing so hard the whole thing shakes. We've been here for ten minutes and Monica hasn't looked up from her laptop once.
Finally, she closes it, folds her hands on the desk and gives me a stern look… like I'm a particularly complicated math problem she's trying to solve.
"Ms. Sinclair, I'm going to be blunt. Your situation is bad." She said, her voice firm and precise.
"Assault and battery with intent to cause fetal harm is a felony in Washington. The DA's office doesn't typically pursue these cases unless they think they can win."
"But I didn't—"
"I know what you didn't do,” Monica started, cutting me off.
“But the prosecutor is going to argue that as a physical therapist, you know exactly how the body works… that you understood how hard you were pushing, saw she was pregnant, and did it anyway.”
My stomach turns over. "That's insane."
"It's called legal strategy." Monica taps one of the documents. "And it gets worse. Richard Moss has been feeding the DA's office information for weeks. Emails between you and Crew discussing the fake relationship. Screenshots of the contract. Witness statements from Emma Rodriguez about how you were 'obsessed' with ruining Joel's wedding."
"But Emma's the one who betrayed me."
"Doesn't matter. She's cooperating with the prosecution now. Which means she's credible." Monica leans back in her chair.
"They're building a narrative. Unhinged ex-girlfriend. Manipulative. Dangerous. Used a recovering addict to exact revenge on her ex-boyfriend. And when that didn't work, she physically attacked his pregnant fiancée."
The room shrank around me, as heat pressed against my skin. I couldn’t breathe.
"Harper." Maya grabs my hand. "Take it easy."
"They're going to put me in prison." The words come out strangled. "For defending myself."
"Not if I can help it." Monica pulls up something on her laptop, turns the screen toward us. "But we need to move fast. The preliminary hearing is in eight weeks. January 12th. That's when the judge decides if there's enough evidence to proceed to trial."
"What do we need to do?" I asked, leaning forward, my palms slick against my jeans.
"First, we need character witnesses. People who can testify that you're calm, stable, and nothing like the person the prosecution is trying to paint you as.”
"Well, my parents could’ve been the best option, but they just flew back to Colorado after a huge argument." I let out a dry laugh and rubbed my temples.
"So, yeah, they’re probably not signing up for that.”
"Then what about Crew?" She asked.
And the question hit me like a punch.
“He’s in rehab. They don’t allow phones or internet… so we can’t call or text him. The only way to reach him is through supervised visits.”
"When does he get out?"
"Six days."
Monica makes a note. "We'll need him to testify. His perspective on the relationship, the fake dating arrangement, everything. If he says it was consensual and you weren't manipulating him, it undermines the prosecution's narrative."
"And if he won't testify?"
"Then we have a problem." Monica closes her laptop. "But that's not our biggest issue right now."
Maya's leg stops bouncing. "What's the biggest issue?"
"Money." Monica says it flat.
"Criminal defense is expensive. My retainer alone is $50,000. And that's just to get us through the preliminary hearing. If this goes to trial, you're looking at another $100,000 to $200,000 in legal fees."
My brain blanked at the number. "I don't have that kind of money."
"I know. I pulled your financials." Monica slides another document across the desk.
"You've got $12,000 in savings. No assets except a car that's worth maybe $8000. You're unemployed, facing a civil lawsuit from Brianna Cross for $500,000, and you just got evicted."
"JESUS CHRIST!" Maya shouted.
"So here are your options." Monica holds up one finger. "Option one: Accept the plea deal. The DA's offering probation, community service, anger management classes, and a guilty plea to simple assault. No prison time, but it goes on your record. You'd be a convicted felon."
"No." The word comes out hard. "I'm not pleading guilty to something I didn't do."
"Then option two: We fight. But you need to find a way to pay for it." Monica holds up two more fingers. "Option three: We find alternative funding. Crowdfunding, loans, pro bono support. But that takes time we don't have."
"How much time do I have to decide?"
"Seventy-two hours. After that, the plea deal expires and we're going to trial whether you're ready or not."
I sat there, trying to process. Seventy-two hours to find $50,000! Six days until Crew gets out of rehab. Eight weeks until the hearing that could send me to prison.
"What about the flash drive?" Maya asks.
"Emma gave Harper all the evidence of what Richard's been doing. The coordination with Joel, the threats, the plan to get Crew fired. Can't we use that?"
Monica's expression doesn't change. "Where did you get this evidence?"
"Emma Rodriguez gave it to me," I say. "Everything Richard said, everything he planned—"
"Was obtained illegally." Monica cuts me off. "Unless Emma had written authorization to record those conversations and share that information, anything on that flash drive is inadmissible. And if we try to use it, we open ourselves up to a lawsuit for corporate espionage."
"So it's useless."
"Not useless. Just not usable in court." Monica drums her fingers on the desk.
"But it does tell us what we're up against. Richard Moss is playing a long game. He's not just protecting Joel's reputation. He's actively trying to destroy you both."
"WHY?" The question bursts out. "Why does he care this much?"
"Because you're a threat. You told the truth about Joel on live television. You made him look bad. And in Richard's world, that's unforgivable." Monica pulls up an email on her screen.
"I did some digging. Richard Moss represents eight high-profile athletes. His reputation is built on crisis management and image rehabilitation. If word gets out that he orchestrated a campaign to destroy someone who told the truth about his client, he's done. No athlete will trust him again."
"So he's going scorched earth."
"Exactly. He can't let you win. Which means he's going to throw everything he has at making sure you lose."
The room goes quiet except for the hum of Monica's laptop fan.
"What do I do?" My voice comes out scared.
"I don't have $50,000. I can't pay you. I can't even afford groceries right now."
Monica studies me for a long moment. Then she closes her laptop and leans forward.
"Ms. Sinclair, I'm going to be honest with you. I don't usually take cases like this. High-profile, messy, clients with no money and three different shit-storms happening at once." She pauses.
"But I watched your press conference. The one where you told the truth about Joel. And I watched the video of what happened with Brianna. And I believe you."
"So?" I leaned even closer, my eyes meeting hers.
"So I'm willing to work on contingency. You don't pay me unless we win. But that means I need something from you in return."
"What is it?"