Chapter 28
Elara
"The alley didn't have cameras. I checked on my way here." I pulled out the new phone. "But I have a witness. The boy who saved me. Mason Parker. He saw the whole thing. He can identify them."
Rodriguez wrote down Mason's name. My new phone number.
"I'll follow up on this. But I have to be honest with you, Ms. Vance. Without physical evidence or clear identification, these cases are difficult. Especially when it comes to he-said-she-said with powerful families."
"So you're not going to do anything."
"I didn't say that." He closed the notebook. "I'll investigate. I'll contact your witness. But I need you to be realistic about what we can prove."
I stood up. "Thank you for your time, Officer Rodriguez."
As I walked out, I heard him on the phone. His voice was different. Careful. "Yes, sir. The Vane family. Yes. I understand. I'll handle it carefully."
I walked out of the station. Stood on the steps. My hands started shaking again. Worse this time. I couldn't make them stop. Couldn't make my body stop shaking.
They were going to make it go away. Just like I knew they would.
---
Mason wasn't at school the next day.
I looked for him at lunch. At his locker. Asked his teammates.
"Parker?" A guy from the basketball team shrugged. "He transferred. Yesterday. It is said that he is going to move to California with his family."
I felt the floor tilt. "What?"
"Yeah, it was weird. His dad's law firm is opening an LA office or something. They had to go immediately."
I pulled out my phone. Called the number he'd given me. It rang. And rang. Then: "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."
I sat down. Right there in the hallway. People walked around me. Stared. I didn't care.
They'd made him disappear. Just erased him.
I called Rodriguez.
"Ms. Vance." He sounded resigned. "I was just about to call you. The Parker family has requested we stop contacting them. They say Mason witnessed nothing. That they don't want to be involved."
"But he did witness it. He saved me. He saw everything."
"I believe you. But without his cooperation..." He sighed. "And without surveillance footage, or physical evidence, or witness identification... I'm sorry. There's nothing actionable here."
"What about the men? Can't you find them?"
"We've looked. But without clear descriptions or identification, it's like finding needles in a haystack. The Bronx has a lot of men in gray jacket."
I hung up. Stared at the phone. At Mason's number that didn't work anymore. At Rodriguez's name in my call history.
My hands were shaking so hard the phone almost fell.
---
I sat in the stairwell. Empty. Quiet. Pulled up Julian's contact. My thumb hovered over the call button.
Don't do it. You know how this will end. You know he won't believe you. You know he'll choose them.
I pressed call anyway.
"Mr. Vane's phone." Atlas. His assistant. Professional. Cold.
"It's Elara. I need to speak to Julian."
"He's in a meeting currently. I can take a message."
In the background, I heard Sloane laugh. High. Delighted. "Julian, this bracelet matches the ring perfectly!"
"Quite an important meeting," I said.
"One moment." Shuffling. Then Julian's voice. "Elara. What is it?"
His tone. Impatient. Annoyed. Like I was interrupting something important.
"Mason Parker. He transferred overnight. Did you do that?"
Silence. Long enough that I thought he'd hung up.
"Why do you care so much about him?" His voice was quiet. Dangerous. "One night in a motel and you're this attached?"
"He was the only witness. The only person who could prove what Victoria did to me."
"Victoria said you were sneaking around the Bronx. Meeting someone. Mason just happened to show up at the right time. Maybe you orchestrated this whole thing."
The words hit me. One by one. Each one hurt more than the last.
"You think I—" I couldn't finish. "You actually think I hired men to attack me just to get attention?"
"I think you're capable of extreme behavior when you want something. You've proven that."
"I wanted justice. I wanted someone to believe me for once."
"Mason's father now has three Fortune 500 clients. His mother's clinic received a two million dollar grant. Everyone wins with this arrangement."
Everyone. Everyone but me.
"Everyone benefits," I repeated. My voice sounded strange. Flat. "Everyone except the girl who almost got raped. Everyone except the boy who tried to do the right thing."
"Elara—"
"Did you love me?" The question came out before I could stop it. "Ever? Even a little bit?"
Another long silence.
"You're my responsibility. My family. That's all you need to be."
Not "I care about you." Not "I worry about you." Just responsibility.
"Stay away from boys like Mason Parker," he said. "Focus on your studies. I'll see you at home."
He hung up.
The stairwell was empty and silent, and I found myself staring at my phone with Julian's name still displayed on the screen, the words "Call ended" mocking me with their finality alongside the timestamp: 3 minutes, 47 seconds.
I stared at the phone. The screen went dark. My reflection stared back at me. Bandaged. Bruised. Alone.
I wiped my eyes, only then realizing that my face was wet with tears I hadn't noticed falling.
Tears came fiercely. I pressed my palm against my mouth to keep the sounds in. Pressed my forehead against my knees.
I cried for Mason. For losing the only person who'd helped me without wanting something back.
I cried for myself. For still hoping Julian would choose me. Just once.
I cried for the girl I used to be. The one who thought love could bridge the gap between their worlds.
Then I stopped. Wiped my face. Stood up.
The broken watch was in my pocket. I pulled it out. The second hand would never move again. Time had stopped at the moment it hit the ground.
The phone buzzed with a text from Mamá: "Where are you? Come home. We need to talk."