Victim Impact Statement （n.） – Olivia
VICTIM IMPACT STATEMENT (N.)
A WRITTEN OR SPOKEN DECLARATION THAT LETS CRIME VICTIMS OR THEIR FAMILIES DESCRIBE THE PHYSICAL, EMOTIONAL, AND FINANCIAL HARM THEY SUFFERED
OLIVIA
Tears pricked my eyes as bubbles filled Liam’s master bathroom tub.
I felt filthy—as usual—whenever “the incident” crossed my mind, and I needed to wash it away.
“Olivia?” Liam stepped into the room, his eyes filled with concern.
“Yes?”
“Usually, when someone hates a book, they just one-star it online or throw it in the trash,” he said. “They don’t glare at it like it owes them money.”
“It owes me a lot more than that…”
I leaned forward to turn off the water.
“I’ll be out in a minute,” I said. “I just need to get clean. That’s all.”
He untied his robe and let it fall to the floor. Then he crossed the room and slid into the suds behind me.
“You’re shaking,” he said, stilling my shoulders. “Why?”
“No reason.” I tried to force a smile, but it didn’t come. “I appreciate the book and the signing. If I ever do pursue law school again, I’ll give it a read.”
“Why did you drop out in the first place?”
I said nothing, and he began threading his fingers through my hair.
I wasn’t sure how long I sat there in silence, but by the time I caught my reflection in the mirror across from us, he’d pulled all my hair into a long braid that fell to my shoulder.
“I really loved studying the law back then,” I said, finally. “I was a second-year, but the professors all gave me third-year readings here and there. Some of them even made me attend hearings with them.”
“I had so much promise, they said…” I paused as Liam pressed a kiss against my neck.
“My main professor, Mr. Kenneth, let me in on his senior-level mock trials and he let me join his team for the state legal competitions.”
“Did you win?”
“Three times in a row.” I caught his smile in the mirror.
“But um…On a Vegas trip, he uh, made it clear that all his help wasn’t free,” I said. “He wanted something in return.”
The water went still.
“But then it progressed to him wanting handjobs and fingering me—and I let him do that, too.”
My eyes met Liam’s in the mirror.
“My parents couldn't afford those trips or the extra courses,” I whispered. “I kept telling myself I was lucky he was helping me.”
Silence settled over the bathroom.
Liam’s hands stopped moving altogether.
The only sound left was the water gently lapping against the sides of the tub.
The tears I'd held back for years finally slipped down my cheeks.
“But then…” I swallowed. “Then he wanted to fuck me whenever his wife wasn't in town.”
I closed my eyes.
“And he made it very clear that if I didn't...all my ‘privileges’ would disappear.”
I paused. “I held him off for a few months, stopped going to his special trips and classes, but…He was relentless.”
Liam clenched his jaw.
“On the night I came over for our first time, I just couldn’t do it, and I left.” I sighed. “He gave me an ‘F’ for my final—in three of his classes—which is an automatic fail, so I couldn’t continue if I wanted to.”
“Then months later, he publishes The Legal Beast, and everyone in legal land kisses the ground he walks on…”
“I’m sorry.” Liam sighed, pressing a loofah against my skin. “Did you file a report?”
“I did.”
“What happened to it?”
“It was after his book was on the bestseller charts for six weeks straight, so his lawyer made me an offer big enough to drop it,” I said. “That’s how I was able to pay for my Journalism tuition and other things for a while.”
“Do you know if he’s done this to anyone else?”
Plenty of girls. “I don’t know.”
“You do,” he said. “Tell me.”
“Yes,” I said. “My roommate was one of them, but please don’t ask me to look into or do anything about it, okay? I just want to get over it.”
He didn’t agree with me.
He simply pressed a kiss against the back of my shoulder and sat with me for another hour.
It wasn’t until later that night that I saw him toss the book in the trash and make a new note in his personal folder.
Ways to Handle Author Ryan Kenneth—Privately.