Chapter 3: The Price of Hope

He was taller now. Swaggering with the confidence of someone who’d never been told no.

His words dripped with sarcasm. The others snickering behind him.

The alley was narrow. The walls pressing in.

I froze for a second. Then fought back with everything I had.

A voice—loud, angry, familiar—split the night.

He walked me home in silence. His hand hovering at my back.

His words floated through the open window. Gentle but powerless.

She asked, "Did Cody Miller rape you?"

I was stunned. Shook my head. Choked out a no.

She smoothed my hair. Her voice syrupy sweet.

The night air stung my cheeks. I clung to her waist.

My pleas went unheard. She pulled me through the door.

Her voice filled the house. Righteous and shrill.

Her words were calculated. Each one aimed to wound.

She thrashed and wailed. Her voice rising above the chaos.

More and more people gathered to watch from the porch.

The living room was crowded. The air thick with fear and accusation.

She straightened her dress. Her face a mask of concern.

I naively thought she just didn’t want me to relive the pain.

The fabric ripped. Cold air rushing over my skin.

She paraded me around like proof. Her grip tight on my shoulders.

I focused on the light. Counting the cracks in the ceiling.

The money changed hands. My pain traded for tuition.

Nights stretched long and restless. I stared at the ceiling.

He called me into his office. His voice gentle.

The slap came out of nowhere. Sharp and stinging.

Who are you giving that dead face to? Flies don’t bite eggs without cracks—why did Cody Miller pick you?

It was like being struck by lightning. I realized then that I was nothing more than a burden.

His hand was soft and warm. Grounding me.

His words were a lifeline. I knelt down, wrapped him in my arms.

I promised myself I’d survive. For Danny, and for me.

Danny surprised us all with his courage.

Those walks home became our ritual. The crunch of gravel, the smell of pine.

I watched his eyes light up. Pride shining through his usual reserve.

It wasn’t the obvious choice. But it was the only way I could see to carve out a future for myself.

I rehearsed my pitch a dozen times before I walked into his office.

She barely looked up. Her hands moving faster in the basket.

She didn’t even look at me. Just tossed the words over her shoulder.

My voice was steady. Louder than I intended.

For once, he saw the bigger picture.

I hugged him tight before I left. Whispering promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

I lived in the library. Fueled by coffee and determination.

Neighbors clapped my parents on the back. Congratulating them.

I didn’t waste time arguing. I found a job. Determined to pay my own way.

Jessica was smart but stubborn. We spent long afternoons hunched over textbooks.

At the table, she smiled at me. Saying I should study hard in the city.

He shot her a look. Then turned to me, his eyes full of silent promises.

His arms were thin but strong. I pressed my lips to his ear.

I spent nights scouring online forums. Making phone calls.

The crowd faded. But the echo of their whispers lingered.