Chapter 48
AVA - JUSTICE FOR REMI
Jack didn’t speak until we were back in the car.
Not when we walked out of the precinct.
Not when Erin called after us with that smug little wave.
Not even when I slammed the passenger door hard enough to make the window rattle.
He just drove. Calm. Focused. Like the war hadn’t started yet.
When we pulled up to my apartment, I didn’t want to go inside.
Not because of the space.
But because of what was missing.
Remi.
Her coat wasn’t on the hook. Her mug wasn’t in the sink. There wasn’t a blanket tossed on the couch or a playlist humming low in the background. The air felt hollow. Like grief lived here now.
Jack followed me in and locked the door behind him.
I collapsed onto the couch and pressed my fingers to my temples.
“She didn’t even hesitate,” I whispered.
Jack sat across from me. “Because she already decided what she was willing to give.”
“She shouldn’t have to give anything,” I snapped. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at me like he’d already decided something. “She’s going to be walked out of that precinct tomorrow morning and loaded into a transport van for county lockup.”
I flinched. “I know.”
Jack’s voice dropped. “And if Erin wants a scene?”
He waited.
I looked up.
Jack’s grin was small, dangerous. “Then we give her one.”
I stared. “What do you mean?”
He leaned across the space between us, voice low. Steady. Calculated.
And he told me.
By the time he pulled back, my eyes were wide, and my heart was racing.
“That could actually work,” I said.
He nodded. “It will. But I need two things.”
“Anything.”
“One, I need to call the DA in the city. My boss. I need permission to come back and take over Remi’s defence personally. That’s not just a phone call. That’s political. But I’m going to do it.”
I swallowed, already tearing up again.
“And two,” he said, “I need you to light the damn match.”
I blinked.
“Call everyone you know,” he said. “Get them to the precinct. Neighbours, patients, supporters, council members, shelter representatives, volunteers, past clients, and the press... everyone. I want bodies on that street. I want cameras. Signs. Fury. Love. I want Erin to walk out tomorrow morning thinking she’s won, and I want her to be swallowed whole by the truth. ”
I nodded.
Then stood.
Because if there was one thing I knew how to do, it was to start a fire.
And tomorrow?
Remi wasn’t walking out alone.
She was walking out with a goddamn army.
And Erin Voss was going to learn precisely what happens when you try to burn down something built on blood, resilience, and sisterhood.
We barely slept. Jack was on the phone until after midnight, calling in every favour, burning every bridge he was willing to lose.
He spoke in clipped, professional tones to men in suits who only answered because they owed him something.
I sent out messages until my fingers cramped.
Texts. Emails. Calls. DMs. I hit up clients, friends, shelters, social workers, the women’s center, and even a few council aides who owed us more than they liked to admit.
Every single person who had attended our last fundraiser. ..
And I asked them to pass the message on.
By morning, the knot in my stomach had settled into something heavier.
Resolve.
I put on a black blazer over one of Remi’s old t-shirts.
The one that said "The System is Not Broken. It’s Working Exactly As Designed.
" I tied my hair back in a braid so tight it made my eyes sting. Jack stood at the door with coffee in one hand and a manila folder in the other. His tie was already knotted. He hadn’t said much. He didn’t have to.
We were past the point of words.
We pulled up to the precinct twenty minutes before they were scheduled to process the transfer. The sidewalks were empty.
For now.
Jack parked and sat for a moment, staring out the windshield like it was a battlefield.
“You ready?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “But she never was either. And she still stepped up.”
We got out and walked to the front steps. Two officers hovered near the doors, trying to appear relaxed, but failing miserably. I met their eyes. They looked away.
Cowards.
We stood in silence.
Waiting.
It started with one woman. A nurse from the clinic on Grant Street.
She stepped out of her car and nodded at me like we were already in it together.
Then came another. A teacher. Two more from one of the halfway houses.
One of Remi’s old patients, who limped but held a sign that said, "She Saved Me. "
Then a woman I didn’t know.
And another.
And another.
Within fifteen minutes, the street was full.
Not a mob.
A movement.
People holding signs and wearing shirts from the clinic. Speaking softly, and then louder, and then louder still.
"Justice for Remi."
"Voss is toxic."
"This is what retaliation looks like."
"She held the line for us. We hold it now for her."
"We Stand With Remi."
"Hold The Line"
Press vans rolled up. Local news. Two indie reporters. I saw phones raised, flashes going off. Voices lifted. No one was shouting yet.
But the rage was coming. I could feel it under the surface like a storm in waiting.
I stood there and whispered to Jack, “We did it.”
He didn’t answer right away. Just looked up at the precinct doors.
“They’re going to walk her out those doors in cuffs,” he said. “But today, she walks into more power than they know what to do with.”
I swallowed hard.
And waited.
For the sound of boots behind the glass.
For Erin’s face.
For Harlan’s guilt.
For the moment, they’d try to parade Remi like a cautionary tale, only to find out she’d already become a symbol.
The crowd kept growing.
And still, we waited.
Because the truth was loud.
And the corrupt had no idea what was waiting for them.