Chapter 27 Building My Defense Mechanism
Harper's Pov,
"I want total honesty!” she said firmly.
“...No more hiding, no more secrets, no more protecting people who don't deserve it." Monica's eyes are sharp.
"You tell me everything. Every mistake you made, the lies you've told, every reason the prosecution might use to destroy your credibility. And then we build a defense that's airtight."
I looked at Maya, trying to confirm if she was okay with it. She nodded.
"Okay," I say. "Where do we start?"
Monica opens a fresh document on her laptop. "Start with the contract. The fake dating arrangement with Crew. I need to know exactly how it started, what the terms were, and when it became real."
So I told her everything.
About the meeting with Maya where we hatched the plan. The hostile first encounter with Crew. The staged appearances, the kiss cam that went viral. And the moment I realized my love for him.
Which Monica typed fast, never interrupting, just collecting data like she's building a case file in real time.
When I finished, she sat back. "Okay. That's good. We've found something that's usable."
"Usable how?"
"It establishes that you weren't manipulating Crew. You were both consenting adults entering a business arrangement that evolved into a genuine relationship. The prosecution will try to paint you as calculating, but this shows you were just as vulnerable as he was." Monica pulls up another document.
"Now tell me about Brianna. Have you met her before the engagement party?"
"Nope. First time was at Joel's apartment when I went to get my stuff."
"And she knew who you were?"
"Yes. Joel told her about me. About our previous relationship."
"How did she react?"
I thought back to that day.
Brianna standing in Joel's living room, perfect and polished, looking at me like I was a stain on her expensive rug.
"She was smug. Like she'd won something."
"And at the engagement party? When the fight happened?"
"She cornered me in the bathroom. Started asking questions about Crew, about whether the relationship was real. I told her it was none of her business. She said I was pathetic for still being obsessed with Joel." The memory makes my jaw clench.
"Then she slapped me."
"Why did she slap you?"
"Because I said Joel cheated on me with her. That she was the other woman."
Monica stops typing. "Did you provoke her?"
"I told the truth."
"That's not what I asked."
I close my eyes. "Yes. I wanted her to know that she didn't win anything. That Joel's a cheater and she's just the next person he's going to cheat on."
"So you were angry."
"Of course I was angry! She was standing there acting like she was better than me when she's the reason my ten-year relationship ended."
Monica nods slowly. "Okay. That's what the prosecution is going to use. They'll say you were looking for a fight. That you deliberately provoked Brianna so you'd have an excuse to hurt her."
"That's not what happened—"
"It doesn't matter what happened. It matters what they can prove." Monica closes her laptop. "Which is why we need Crew's testimony. If he can establish that you're not violent, not manipulative, not the person they're trying to paint you as, it changes the narrative."
"What if he can't testify?" The question I've been avoiding. "What if the Titans fire him and he blames me for it?"
"Then we're in trouble." Monica doesn't sugarcoat it.
"Without Crew, your best defense is character witnesses who can vouch for you. But given that you're estranged from your parents, unemployed, and just lost your apartment, we don't have a lot of options."
Maya speaks up. "What about me? I've known Harper for ten years. I can testify."
"You're her best friend. The jury will assume you're biased." Monica taps her pen against the desk.
"We need someone neutral. Someone with credibility. Ideally someone in the medical or sports community who can speak to Harper's character and professionalism."
I thought through my old colleagues. Dr. Chen, who fired me. The other PTs at Evergreen who probably think I'm a liability now. The minor league teams I worked for who've all moved on.
"I don't have anyone."
"Then we need to find someone." Monica stands up, signaling the meeting's over.
"You have seventy-two hours to decide if you're taking the plea deal. Use that time to think about who you can ask for help.” Her tone sharpened as she reached for her briefcase.
“And Harper?"
I look up.
"Don't talk to the media. Don't post on social media. Don't do anything that could be used against you. The prosecution is watching everything you do. One wrong move and we lose our chance at fighting this."
Maya and I walk out of Monica's office in silence. The elevator ride down felt like descending into a grave.
When we hit the parking garage, Maya finally speaks. "What are you going to do?"
"I don't know." I lean against her car, suddenly exhausted. "I don't have $50,000. I don't have character witnesses. I don't even have Crew because he's locked in a fucking facility and doesn't know any of this is happening."
"Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe he's better off not knowing until he's stronger."
"Or maybe I'm being selfish. Maybe he deserves to know that Richard's trying to destroy his career while I'm the reason it's all happening."
Maya grabs my shoulders. "Stop. You're not the reason. Richard is the reason. Joel is the reason. This whole fucked-up situation is the reason. But not you."
"Marcus said the best thing I could do for Crew was leave him."
"Marcus is a manipulative asshole who's trying to protect his own interests." Maya's voice is fierce. "Don't let him get in your head."
____
While we were still talking, my phone buzzed with a text from an unknown number.
60 days until you're someone's cellmate, Harper. Hope you're enjoying your freedom while it lasts.
Still think refusing my offer was smart?
\- M
_____
Marcus.
I showed Maya the screen.
"He's trying to scare you."
"Well, it's working." I deleted the message, but it was already burned into my brain.
Sixty days.
Eight weeks.
Two months until everything I've built—or what's left of it—disappears completely.
"Harper." Maya's voice is gentle now. "So what are you going to do?"
I stare at the concrete wall of the parking garage. Someone's tagged it with spray paint. “FUCK THE SYSTEM” in dripping red letters.
Yeah. Same.
"I don't know." My voice comes out flat.
"Monica wants fifty grand I don't have. Richard wants me in prison. My mom wants me in Colorado pretending none of this ever happened. And Crew's locked in a facility with no idea that his career's about to implode because of me."
"That's not an answer."
"I don't have an actual answer!" The words come out sharper than I mean them to.
"What do you want me to say, Maya? That I'm going to magically manifest $50,000? That I'm going to show up at Joel's wedding and everything will work out because I'm brave and determined?"
"I want you to say you're not giving up."
I laugh. It sounds bitter even to my own ears. "I'm not giving up. I'm just being realistic about how fucked I am."
Maya crosses her arms. "So what? You're taking the plea deal?"
"I didn't say that."
"Then what are you saying?"
Crew's face flashed in my mind. I thought about the way he looked at me in that hospital bed… groggy, scared, and begging me not to call anyone. About how he told me he loved me like it was the last thing keeping him alive.
"I'm saying… I'm going to that wedding." The words surprise me.
"I'm saying Richard Moss can threaten me all he wants, but I'm not disappearing. I'm not pleading guilty. And I'm sure as hell not letting Joel win."
"How are you going to pay Monica?"
"I have no fucking idea." I push off the car. "But I've got seventy-two hours to figure it out."
Maya grins. "There she is."
"Don't. I'm still terrified."
"Yeah, but at least you're terrified and moving forward instead of terrified and frozen."
"Anyways though, we'll figure it out." Maya unlocks her car. "We always do."
We're about to get in when my phone rings.
Not a text this time. An actual call.
The screen says: Diane Lawson
“Crew's mom.” I whispered to myself.
My heart stopped.
"Harper?" Maya's watching me. "Who is it?"
I showed her the screen.
"Are you going to answer it?"
I stare at the phone, watching it ring.
If Crew's mom is calling me, then it means… something's wrong. Something I can't control or fix or fight my way out of.
After four rings, I hit accept and raise the phone to my ear.
"Hello?"
"Harper." Diane's voice is shaking. "You need to come to the facility. Right now."
My blood turns to ice. "What happened? Is Crew okay?"
"Just come. Please."
The line goes dead.
I look at Maya, and I know she can see the panic written all over my face.
"Drive," I say. "Drive fast.”