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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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which still held its elegant flair despite the wear 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 one

approached Linda with slow steps, keeping my voice low. “Linda, I promise you, I come in peace. I want to help.

at me through her bangs, her red stained lips twisted harshly. “Help me? How

a seat beside her, though I kept my distance. “Linda, you were right about Mr. Erickson. He targeted you,

her face. “You’re saying

unwavering. “Yes, Linda. I believe you, and I want to seek justice for what you’ve been through. I’m sorry that I was so blind, too caught

take another swig of wine before realizing her glass was empty. With a

her apartment, I wasn’t sure anything was safe to consume.

reached the

your help, I’m hoping we can expose the truth and make sure he can’t harm anyone else. Justice

and she sauntered back into the living room. If nothing else,

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

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a gag.

as well be.” As she moved to sit up, she stumbled slightly and spilt some wine on the couch cushion. The red wine bled right into its creamy surface, adding yet another unflattering

Sinclair…Our careers are ruined.

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

sipped pensively on her wine. I glanced briefly at the door, wondering if Timothy was still waiting

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

in a deep breath, catching the lost look in her foggy eyes. “I need an impact statement from you, fi you’d be willing. You don’t even have to go into court, because the statement is

in her hands and swirled it around, as if it would produce an answer. I stood up and walked toward her, reaching

Despite all that happened, she had endured so much in that office, and I couldn’t stand by and watch her suffer in silence while her story could

trembling. “Okay, so let’s say that I write the statement. Don’t expect it to

holding it softly. “It will, Linda, and thank you. Your testimony will be

looked at her hand, still enveloped in mine, and shook her head. Tiredly, she rolled her eyes

at the computer on her desk, which had various items

write something up,” said Linda.

“|

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intent of it is enough,” I assured her, releasing her

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

of justice was gaining momentum.

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