The Hockey Star’s Remorse

Chapter 203

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The drive to the location Linda had provided was filled with anticipation and anxiety. I couldn’t help but reflect on the incredible strength and resilience Linda had shown by agreeing to share her painful story with me. It was

a testament to her courage and her desire to heal and find closure.

As we pulled up to the address, I took a deep breath and steeled myself for the difficult conversation that lay ahead. My interactions with Linda had already revealed the depth of her suffering, and I knew that there was

more to her story that she had yet to share.

Timothy and I found ourselves outside Linda’s door, and I reached to knock lightly on its peeling surface. A long minute passed, and Timothy looked at me, still hesitant about the whole thing. He didn’t get to voice his concerns too soon, because the door creaked open and a head of messy, blonde hair peeked out. I couldn’t help but notice the disarray behind her. The whole place was out of order, with papers and personal items strewn about. It was a stark contrast to the well–kept woman that I’d seen previously, who wouldn’t even let a hair out of place unless it was purposeful.

“Linda, hi,” I said carefully, forcing a smile.

She lifted her head, revealing pale, skeptical eyes that shifted from me to Timothy. Her solemn expression

quickly turned sour. “Why is he here? I thought we were meeting one–on–one.”

I could sense the tension in the room, and Timothy grunted uncomfortably, looking to me for assistance. I quickly intervened, my voice calm and empathetic. “Linda, I apologize for the surprise, but Timothy is here as moral support. He promised to wait outside though, so we could discuss things privately.”

She glared at him once more, still cowering behind the door. I suppose her last interaction with him hadn’t been so pleasant, although she had initiated the hostility. Her long nails dug into the door, leaving crescent marks in the aging paint, and she sighed heavily.

“You may come in,” she told me, avoiding Timothy’s gaze.

“I can wait out here,” Timothy decided.

I turned to him and tapped his arm reassuringly. “We won’t be long.”

When I stepped into Linda’s apartment, the atmosphere was tense and filled with unspoken words. She allowed me inside but firmly shut the door, creating a barrier that made me feel slightly cornered. Timothy was right

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Chapter 203

outside the door though, so that was slightly helpful.

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and tear she’d inflicted upon it. She leaned over and grabbed the glass of wine that had been sitting on the coffee table and down it in

approached Linda with slow steps, keeping my voice low. “Linda, I

red stained lips twisted harshly. “Help me? How can you help me? What

seat beside her, though I kept my distance. “Linda, you were right about Mr. Erickson. He targeted you, just as he did with other

of fear flashed across her face. “You’re saying

I want to seek justice for what you’ve been through. I’m sorry that I was so blind,

was empty. With a lazy grunt, she hauled herself off

her apartment, I wasn’t sure anything was safe

it reached the brim. “Suit yourself. Suppose you need

the truth

back into the living room. If

does it to all his ‘favorite girls,” she said, leaning over the couch opposite of me. “He knew I wouldn’t say ‘no‘

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Chapter 203

fought back a gag. “Does

as well be.” As she moved to sit up, she stumbled slightly and spilt some wine on the couch cushion. The

Sinclair…Our careers are ruined. Speaking up

justice. It’s not just about us; it’s about all the women who have suffered. We can make a difference. We can hold him accountable for his actions and ensure that others won’t have to endure what you and I

sipped pensively on her wine. I glanced briefly at the door, wondering if Timothy was still waiting behind it, or if he’d gone back to his car. It was

from me,” Linda said finally. She wiped her lips on the back of her hand and looked in my

“I need an impact statement from you, fi you’d be willing. You don’t even have

expression shifted from annoyance to resignation. She cupped the glass in her hands and swirled it around, as if it would produce an answer. I stood up and walked toward her, reaching

me. Despite all that happened, she had endured so much in that office, and I couldn’t stand by and watch her

eyes glistened with unshed tears as she finally spoke up, her voice trembling. “Okay, so let’s say

you. Your testimony will be crucial. We’re in this together, and we’ll do everything

mine, and shook her head. Tiredly, she rolled

at the computer on her desk, which had various

I could write something up,”

“|

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is enough,” I assured her, releasing her hand. “Thank

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began waving me away, already drawing herself from the conversation. “Now, go away. You’re cutting into my time.”

renewed sense of hope and determination. The truth could finally come to light, and the pursuit of justice was gaining momentum. The culture of silence and complicity that had allowed individuals like Mr. Erickson to thrive was beginning to crumble, and the promise of change and accountability was