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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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

my voice low. “Linda, I

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

were right about Mr. Erickson. He targeted you, just as he did

flashed across her face. “You’re saying you believe

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

glass was empty. With a lazy grunt, she hauled herself off the couch and

anything was

off the counter and filled her glass, not stopping until it reached the brim. “Suit yourself. Suppose you

expose the truth and make sure he can’t

back into the living room.

over the couch opposite of me. “He knew I wouldn’t say ‘no‘ to the success, and he certainly wasn’t clear about how I’d keep

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Chapter 203

back a gag. “Does he think he’s running a harem in there,

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. Speaking up

about all the women who have suffered. We

silence stretched between us, and she 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.

her lips on the back of her hand and looked in my direction. “What the

breath, catching the lost look in her foggy eyes. “I need an impact statement from

the glass in her hands and swirled it around, as if it would produce an answer.

to her emotions, to stir the same determination and hope that had ignited within me. Despite all that happened, she had endured so

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

thank you. Your testimony will be crucial. We’re in this together, and we’ll do everything in our power to make a difference.”

looked at her hand, still enveloped in mine, and shook

on her desk, which had various items tossed

guess I could write something up,” said

“|

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it is enough,” I assured her, releasing

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herself from

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