➵ 'Deleted' Scene 4

L I A The girl was young - no more than eighteen. The clothes she wore were bulky, far too large for her frame. It was her way of hiding, of making herself invisible to the eyes of men she didn't trust. She pressed her split lips together, brown eyes fixed on the metal table before her. Aside from the chairs, it was the only piece of furniture in the room. "Why," I said, my voice eerily calm, "are you keeping the victim in an interrogation room?" Detective Parker looked over at me. "There wasn't anywhere else that was private." "You may as well have tossed her in a cell." "It wasn't my choice, Lia." The district attorney, Nadia Finely, watched the girl through the glass, tearing off a massive bite of her burger before handing it over to the detective. Wiping her grease stained fingers off on her pantsuit, she tossed her hair back and thumbed through the file that he handed to her. "Interview her, Mason." I couldn't help but feel stunned, but was careful not to show I was fazed. Taking the file from her, I left the observation area, stepping into the room where the girl sat. Fatigued eyes met mine as I sat down in front of her. "I'm Lia." "I know," she said. "I know who you are." I set down the file, flipping it shut. "I know you've been asked these questions over and over again, but now that the district attorney's office has the evidence to move forward, we need to go through this again. Can you please tell me what happ-" "No. I-I don't want to press charges anymore." My gaze remained on her. "You were raped." "I-I was wearing a skirt and it was sho-" "I don't care about what you wore, Hailey. I care about whether or not that man had consent." She blinked, eyes beginning to water. The tip of her nose had gone red. Not a word left her lips. Instead, she sealed them together, as if to keep herself from speaking. "I know that this is difficult. I know that you don't want to think about it, much less talk about it. This man hurt you. And no matter how hard you try, you will never forget it. But, eventually, things will get easier. I promise." "You don't know that," the girl blurted. I could see it in her. Or the absence of it, at least. The absence of hope. Hope that should've been burning bright in someone so young. Hope that she would win. That she would survive. "I do. And I also know that putting him away will help you. But if he gets to walk out of here a free man, not only will you not get the justice that you deserve, but he'll know that he can get away with it. And then there will be another girl just like you. And maybe another after her. But that doesn't have to happen. He can go to prison where he can never hurt another woman. You can get justice. But that won't make it all better. It won't stop you from feeling scared or uneasy or send the nightmares away. It's going to hurt like hell for a long time. But it will get easier. It will get better. And you're going to be even stronger than you are now." Tears dripped down her cheeks. "Can you tell me what happened to you last Monday night, Hailey?" The girl swallowed, lifted her chin, and sucked in a breath. "I was raped." ➵ Finely ignored my vehement protests, continuing toward her office as I stayed on her heels. "I did everything I could, Lia. His lawyer agreed on six months for sexual battery and prob-" "Half a year? That girl isn't going to get over this in six months! He isn't going to be any less of a rapist in six months. You can't possibly agree to these terms! They're unfair. If you don't have faith that a jury will charge him with rape, I'll do it. I'll take the case." "You're not taking the case." "I'm taking the case. You have a big enough load as it is. And I'll run everything by you. It's allowed as long as Hailey agree-" The district attorney dropped down onto her chair, taking out a fresh cheeseburger from the paper bag one of her assistants had left for her to find. "Are you doing this out of concern for me? Taking a little off my load?" "No." I was scowling - depending on the day, I might have said yes. But today, after realizing the terms she was about to agree to without a proper fight, my blood was boiling. "I want your job when you die from a heart attack at a young age." "You have a morbid sense of humor." "I don't, and it's not a joke." "Going to kill me, Miss Mason?" "No. Those cheeseburgers are. This is your third one since lunch." I snatched it from her hand, tossing it into the bin. "So unless you want me to take your job, cut back." "You do care." "Only until I graduate." Finely smiled grudgingly, her eyes cold. The demeanor she maintained made it easy to see why the others were so intimidated by her, but it was just a poorly created facade to try and look more powerful. "You run every single detail by me. Everything. And do everything by the book." "Done." "And unless you want to be fired, bring me another burger to replace the one you just tossed, Miss Mason."