Chapter 30 Wrong move

Chapter 30 Wrong move
Maya's POV

Justin's phone was already in his hand.

"Wait," I said. "Do you think this is a good idea?"

"Calling the police?"

"Justin…"

"She texted you about your father, Maya. While he's lying in a hospital bed and fighting for his life. She doesn't even care if what she's doing is right or not, or if it's hurting others. These aren't just rumors or pictures anymore." His jaw was tight. "This is harassment. This is a crime."

I stared at him and honestly he's right but…

"Justin, her parents are rich. They have lawyers. They…"

"I don't care."

He pressed the call button. The line rang, once, twice.

This is really happening. We're really doing this. We're really calling the police on Sarah Dean.

"911, what's your emergency?"

Justin's voice was calm and steady. "I need to report a crime, harassment and distribution of harmful material. And I have reason to believe it involves a minor who was drugged."

The dispatcher asked for details and Justin gave them. My name, Sarah's name, the photos, the videos and the text about my father.

Everything.

He was saying it out loud. Everything that happened to me.

The dispatcher said an officer would come to take a statement and they asked where we were.

"The hospital," Justin said. "Westbrook General. We'll be in the lobby."

He hung up and the silence was deafening.

"Maya." He turned to face me, his eyes were soft. "You did the right thing."

"I didn't do anything. You called."

"You let me."

I didn't know what to say because he's right. I let him because I couldn't do it myself, I was too scared and some stupid part of me still thought…still hoped…that Sarah would stop, that she'd realize what she'd done and she'd apologize.

But I guess that isn't happening. She's never going to stop.



The waiting was the worst part.

Twenty minutes, maybe thirty. I couldn't tell.

The hospital lobby was quiet, just the hum of the vending machines and the occasional squeak of shoes on the linoleum. Justin sat beside me. He stayed, after everything, after I ran from him.

He stayed.

I wanted to say something, thank him, apologize and tell him that I didn't mean to run, that I was just scared, that Cynthia had shaken something loose in me that I didn't know how to fix. But the words wouldn't come.

So I just sat there, in the silence waiting.



The officers arrived. Two of them, a man and a woman, both in uniform. Both with faces that gave nothing away.

"Ms. Sandoval?"

I stood up. "That's me."

"I'm Officer Reeves and this is Officer Martinez. Would you be willing to come down to the station and give a formal statement?”

The station?”

“Yes, for questioning. We need to get your statement.”

"Okay."

"Come on," Justin said. "I'll drive you to the station.”


The police station was cold. Same gray walls, gray chairs, same gray everything. Like someone had drained all the color out of the world.

Officer Reeves sat across from me and Officer Martinez stood by the door.

"Can you tell us what happened?" Officer Reeves asked. Her voice was gentle, not cold like the room.

I took a breath and started at the beginning.

"The sleepover," I said. "It started at a sleepover."

I told them about Sarah, about how we'd been best friends, how she'd seemed like a sister. I told them about the drink, about how tired I got, about how I didn't remember anything after that. Then I told them about walking into school and the photo thrown at my feet.

I told them about Sarah in the bathroom, her confession, about her saying she drugged me and telling me to go back to Colombia.

The words are out, everything. I can't take it back and honestly, it felt good to open up. By the time I finished, my voice was hoarse, my hands were shaking and my eyes were wet.

But I wasn't crying, not anymore.

Officer Reeves was quiet for a moment. Then she nodded.

"That's a very serious allegation, Ms. Sandoval."

I couldn't say anything. I just nodded.

"Do you have any proof? Any evidence besides your testimony?"

“No. Just the pictures and text.”

Officer Reeves wrote something down. "We'll look into it."

That's what they always say; we'll look into it. But will they actually do anything? Will it matter?

"Thank you, Ms. Sandoval. We'll be in touch.”

More waiting, more silence and hoping for something that might never come.

I walked out of the gray room and saw Justin standing by the window, his back to me. He turned when he heard the door.

"How'd it go?"

"I don't know." My voice was flat. "They said they'd look into it."

"That's good."

"Is it?"

He didn't answer, because we both know.

"We'll look into it" doesn't mean anything.

Not when Sarah's father is rich and owns half the town.

"They're bringing Sarah in for questioning. Let's wait to see how it turns out."

They're bringing Sarah in.

She's going to sit in a room with officers and a lawyer and deny everything.

And maybe… just maybe… someone will believe me.



Justin and I sat in the lobby, waiting.

She's in there. Sarah is in there, behind one of those doors and probably lying through her teeth.

The minutes crawled by. We couldn't do anything but wait.

Then the front door opened and I looked up. Mr. Dean was standing there. Sarah's father and my father's boss. He was tall, broad-shouldered and wore an expensive coat, expensive shoes, expensive everything.

He didn't look at me. He walked past the desk, like he owned the place.

Maybe he does, maybe he owns everything.

And then Sarah walked out. She wasn't pale, her eyes weren't red and she certainly didn't look smaller. She looked exactly the same as she always did; perfect hair, perfect posture and perfect smile.

She doesn't look like someone who just got questioned by the police. She looks like someone who just won.

Her father slowed so she could catch up with him, a lawyer in a gray suit flanked her on the other side and they walked down the hallway like they owned it.

Fuck. They walked out like gods.

Then Sarah saw me and her smile widened. She didn't look away or flinch or show an ounce of fear.

She just walked straight toward us.

Justin's hand tightened on my arm. "Maya…don't react. Don't give her the satisfaction. Don't…”

Sarah stopped right in front of me. She was close enough that I could smell her perfume. She tilted her head and her eyes sparkled with something cruel and bright.

She's enjoying this. She's actually enjoying this.

Then she winked, slowly and deliberately, like a knife sliding between my ribs.

The message was clear.

You lost. You never had a chance and I'm not going anywhere.

She walked past, her father followed and then the lawyer followed and the door closed behind them.

The lobby was silent.

"Did you see that?" My voice was shaking. "Justin, did you see her face?"

"I saw."

"She winked at me. She winked at me…like… like we're playing a game and she's already won."

"Maya…"

"Oh God." I pressed my hands to my face. "We shouldn't have come here, we shouldn't have done this. Her father has lawyers, she has money, she has…"

"Maya, breathe."

"Don't tell me to breathe! You saw her. She's not scared, instead she's happy. She thinks…"

The door opened again and an officer walked out. Not the same one from before but this one was older, his face was hard and his eyes gave nothing away.

"Ms. Sandoval?"

I stood up. My legs were shaking. "Yes?"

"My superior wants to see you. Both of you in his office."

He turned and walked back through the door. He didn't even wait to see if we followed.

Justin stood up and his hand found mine.

"Maya…"

"Oh no." My voice was barely a whisper. "We've messed up. Justin, we've messed up."

Justin squeezed my hand once.

"Whatever this is," he said quietly, "we face it together."

The officer opened the office door and my stomach dropped.

Because Mr. Dean was already inside.