2. Chapter 1
Present day
“I don’t know if I want to go on the record.” Mia Poulos sat across from Hope Berkley at the out-of-the-way diner Hope had picked for privacy.
It didn’t hurt that they made chicken and waffles that reminded her of her mom’s cooking.
“Then you don’t have to.” Hope kept her voice gentle. Mia had been through enough, from a powerful boss who’d been sexually harassing her for a year to everyone else who’d turned a blind eye to the creep.
“I keep telling myself to go on the record, to put him on blast…” She traced her finger down the condensation of the water glass in front of her.
The temperature outside was in the nineties, though it felt more like a hundred-plus with the humidity added in. Mississippi and all of the Gulf Coast were a beast in the summertime. Hope remained silent, waving off their waitress who approached with a pitcher of water.
Neither of them needed a refill and Mia simply wanted someone to talk to. Someone to listen, to believe her. Hope wasn’t sure anything would come of this story, and while she hoped to be the one to break it, she wanted Mia and the others her boss had hurt to find peace more than anything else.
And Mia was right to be hesitant at coming forward with her story.
The world had a solid track record of not believing women.
Of holding them to a higher standard than the men with all the power.
Of asking inane questions like What was she wearing?
Or Why didn’t she report it sooner? And as soon as a woman became “too successful,” even other women came for her.
It was a vicious world out there, and the more Hope tried to make a difference, the less it seemed to matter.
Was she spiraling right now? Kinda. But the world had been beating her down and she could feel the burnout coming.
Forcing those thoughts from her mind, she glanced at her buzzing cell phone.
“Take it,” Mia murmured. “I’ve got to use the restroom anyway.”
Hope nodded and pressed the green button.
She didn’t recognize the number but that didn’t mean anything.
This was her work cell, not her private one, so she answered more often than not.
She never knew when someone might be calling with information about a story or wanted to tell their own story. “Yeah?”
“Hope? This is Sheriff Crow.”
Her stomach immediately tightened. Even though she hadn’t seen the man in years, she’d have recognized that raspy voice of Steve Crow even if he hadn’t identified himself.
There was no reason for him to be calling her…
except one. “Sheriff. Is my dad…” Even though they were more or less estranged, she still couldn’t say the word.
She and her dad occasionally talked on the phone about absolutely nothing at all (the weather, what kinds of seeds to plant during the spring, the Saints football season), but it had been a while since he’d checked in.
“It’s not looking good. I know you two don’t talk much, but I still wanted to let you know.”
“I’ll head home today. I can be there in a few hours…
Is he at the hospital?” She didn’t know enough about his life the last few years to know if he’d opted to die at home or in the hospital.
But he’d been trying to die for as long as she could remember, courtesy of whiskey.
So it was a good guess that was what had finally gotten him.
“Yeah, he had a heart attack.”
Oh… She’d assumed it was liver related. “I’ll be there soon,” she murmured as Mia returned to the table, looking beyond exhausted.
She’d seen pictures of the dark-haired beauty before all this mess had started with her boss, and the stress was evident in the fine lines around her mouth, the worry in her dark eyes.
And her body language was always on guard, tense. As if she was waiting for a strike.
“Everything okay?” Mia asked.
“Yep. Listen…I’m here if you need me, but there’s no pressure to go through with this.
” Early on in her career Hope had made the mistake of pressuring a victim to tell her story, and she still lived with that regret.
The fallout and vitriol online had been brutal and the woman had eventually left the male-dominated industry she’d been in altogether.
“I’ve put in my notice… I got another job. One that I never saw myself doing, but it’s far away from…” She waved her hand once. “The mess of my life.”
Hope’s heart went out to her. “Are you excited about it?”
Mia’s eyes lit up. “I am. For the first time in years I’m excited about this.
The job is across the country. In Washington State,” she added.
“It’ll be weird living in such a different climate but a friend from college is letting me stay in her ADU until I get settled and can look for a place of my own. ”
“Then go live your life, Mia.” Hope reached across the worn linoleum table and squeezed her hand.
“If you’re feeling some sort of guilt, don’t.
Just let it go. None of this is on you. You were a victim, and he and the people who turned a blind eye are the only ones to blame. That’s it. You deserve to start fresh.”
Mia gave her a ghost of a smile. “I feel like I’m letting you down.”
Hope blinked in surprise, then shook her head.
“Look, he’s a piece of shit. We both know that.
Hell, the people who work for him know that.
But there’s no guarantee your story will make any changes stick.
” Hope thought it might because Mia had recordings—audio and video—and Hope was pretty sure other women would come forward if Mia did.
But no way in hell was she putting that kind of pressure on her.
Enough powerful men had done heinous things and were still in positions of power.
There was no guarantee that coming forward would matter.
“And you don’t owe anyone anything. You owe yourself a fresh chapter.
You owe the younger you who started that job with big dreams and expectations to get back out there and just live. ”
Mia swiped away a couple tears. “Thank you,” she rasped out. “I’ll contact you if I change my mind.”
“Of course.” When she went to pull out her wallet, Hope waved her away. “I’ve got this. Go. I’ll head out in a minute.”
Mia nodded, then hugged her before she left.
Part of Hope was glad not to have to write the story.
Or maybe not glad, but she was relieved not to need to worry about the backlash that was sure to follow.
The threats and rage from strangers online that both she and Mia would face for daring to tell the truth.
Especially when she needed to go home and say good-bye to her dad.
Her throat tightened at that, but she shoved down tight all the emotions that wanted to spill over, locked them up.
She’d been compartmentalizing things in her life since she was a kid. What was one more day?
** *
The drive to her hometown hadn’t taken long since she’d been across the state border in Mississippi.
As she drove through King’s Creek, Louisiana, she saw more shops than before and other clear signs of growth that told her this place wasn’t suffering as much as some rural areas.
Though this was more rural adjacent, since they were twenty minutes from a larger town.
She was glad to see so much activity, but didn’t stop anywhere. Instead, she kept on driving to the neighboring town and its hospital where her dad was supposed to be.
After parking, she tried to steel herself to see her dad, but it was useless.
Nerves had settled in her bones and she wasn’t sure what she was going to say at this point.
When she stepped outside her car, she was bathed in a wave of heat and humidity.
Immediately she stripped off her cardigan as she made her way to the main entrance.
She started to approach the front desk but saw Sheriff Crow striding down the hallway toward her. She veered in his direction, but his expression of pity told her everything she needed to know.
“Hope,” he said in that raspy voice, his mouth set in a grim line. “I’m sorry.”
Her stomach grabbed tight, a strange numbness taking hold. “I’m too late?”
He nodded. “I told him you were on the way though. He knew you were coming home.”
She wasn’t sure if that was worse or better and blinked away the hot tears that stung her eyes. “I…don’t know what to do now.” She always knew what to do, but as she stood there in the sterile hospital, with this man she ha dn’t seen in years, surrounded by strangers… She felt blank almost.
“Come on, let’s go get some coffee.” He placed a gentle hand on her forearm and she followed him to the cafeteria that had seen a revamp sometime in the last few years.
Her head was all over the place and she was having a hard time getting a handle on her emotions.
“Your dad got his affairs in order a year or so ago,” he said as he sat across from her, sliding a coffee in front of her.
She took it, thankful for the warmth since the hospital temperature was the opposite of outside. “I didn’t realize,” she murmured.
“He also got sober. Almost six years.”
Hope blinked, unable to hide her surprise. “Wow. That’s great.” A little too late for their relationship, but she was glad he finally kicked the drinking. But she wished… She wished he’d loved her enough to do it while she was still part of his life.
The sheriff nodded. “Yeah. He went to AA at least twice a week, was mentoring someone… He has a will. Or trust, not sure. I’m sure his lawyer will contact you but it’s my understanding that he has everything in order. He didn’t want you to have to worry about anything.”
Hope nodded, struggling to take it all in. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting at all. Absolutely none of it, but definitely not that he’d gotten sober . Her father had called her a few times over the years and they’d made painful small talk. He’d never once told her that he’d stopped drinking.
To be fair, she wasn’t sure she’d have believed him.
He’d broken her mother’s heart, and while Hope knew the reason her mom died wasn’t actually his fault, she’d worked herself to death trying to keep the bills paid.
For years Hope had wished her mom would be strong enough to leave, but at the end of the day, she’d loved Hope’s dad.
Anger began to burn through the awful numbness. Stupid to love someone like that. Stupid to love anyone so much that you lost yourself. Sacrificed yourself. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I honestly don’t know what to say to any of this,” she finally managed.
“I know. And I know what your dad was like back then. Just…know that he really got his shit together. Was trying to be a better person at the end.”
Those hot tears were back, but she dashed them away. “I guess I should talk to his lawyer and stop by the house.” She hadn’t been back since she was eighteen. There was no way she wanted to see his body. She didn’t want to remember him like that.
The sheriff slid a business card across the table to her. “I figured. His lawyer is Chelsea Ortega.”
Hope didn’t recognize the name, but pocketed the card all the same. “I’ll need to talk to the staff about…where to transfer him.” Even saying the words were hard.
Nodding, he stood with her. “Come on, I’ll take you.”
Feeling as if her feet weighed a thousand pounds, she fell in step with him. For a brief moment she thought about calling Bradford.
Okay, lies—much longer than a moment. Right now the yearning was so strong she almost couldn’t contain it.
She wanted to call him, but she’d ended things with him for a good reason. And she really needed to get around to divorcing him. For his sake.
But…she didn’t want to. And he’d never filed either so… Damn it.
She couldn’t call him. Couldn’t lean on him. She didn’t deserve kindness from him. She had no idea how to love anyone and was terrified of letting anyone in. She’d seen where that got her mom and she’d never wanted someone to have that kind of power over her.
So she’d kept people at a distance her entire life. And look where that had gotten her. Lonely, in a job that was killing her. Sighing, she fell in step with the sheriff and locked all those depressing thoughts up tight.