Alexia takes me down the hall into a small conference room. There are video screens set up and they’re focused on Jesse and his room. “Have they been here the entire time?” I’m not sure how I feel about being watched.
There’s an officer and two detectives I recognize from talking to Kian earlier, and another guy running the equipment.
“They went in this morning. There’s audio too.”
“Why are you showing me this?”
“Just wait,” Alexia says.
Jesse’s parents slip into the conference room behind. Cam is asleep in his grandpa’s arms. We watch as Kian enters Jesse’s room. He’s followed by a middle aged couple, and older woman and then Larry. Anger shoots through me. “What the hell is she doing in there?”
“There are holes in her story, but she’s not floundering on intimacy and loving Jesse,” Alexia explains. “The couple is her parents, the other women is the psychiatrist. She’s the one who suggested that Larry see what her lies have caused.”
“So, the psychiatrist doesn’t believe her?”
“No. Only her parents.”
“What happened to him?” Larry cries, running to the bed.
“That’s what happens in jail to adults who molest kids,” Kian answers.
Larry whips around and pierces Kian with a glare. “He didn’t molest any children.”
“You’re sixteen. He’s twenty-four. Call it what you want, but it doesn’t go well for guys in prison who take advantage of young girls.”
Her back straightens. “I am not a young girl.”
“You’re only sixteen,” Kian points out. “By law, you aren’t an adult either.”
Her eyes fill with tears and she glances back down at Jesse, then looks at the monitors, IV lines, and everything that is hooked up to him. “Is he going to die?” She glances back at Kian. Tears are trailing down her cheeks.
Kian just shrugs.
“But he can’t. What about Cam? What about me?”
“You won’t see him again,” Larry’s father insists. His hands are fisted and he’s glaring at Jesse. I get the feeling Sergeant Baily would kill Jesse if he thought he could get away with it. Of course, he believes his daughter and if I had a kid and thought the same thing happened, I would want the guy hurting as well.
“Please, sir,” the psychiatrist warns.
“If Mr. Tinley dies, Cam will be raised by his grandparents and if they can’t, then he’ll go into foster care,” the psychiatrist answers in a matter-of-fact tone.
“I’ll take care of him.”
“You’re too young,” the psychiatrist reminds her.
“But he’s mine.”
“No, dear,” her mother says. “He’s not, even though you care for him like a mother.”
The psychiatrist pulls the parents aside. “You are in here because you promised to be silent. If you continue, I’ll need to ask you to leave.”
They nod solemnly and step back against the wall.
“The State of New York is not going to give a minor to another minor to raise.”
Larry turns back to Jesse and grabs his hand. “You’ve got to get better. How can we be together if you don’t get better?”
“Laurentia,” Kian says. “If and when he recovers, Jesse will probably go to prison.” Since he’s in his deputy uniform, his words probably carry more weight than if he were in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
She whips around again. “No.”
“It’s the law, and even if he doesn’t serve time, he can’t teach again,” the psychiatrist advises her.
“Why?”
“Because he’ll have to register as a sex offender.”
I really like this woman. She isn’t being mean, just stating the facts. Not coldly but in a way that Larry will get that her accusations have horrible consequences. At least her parents are keeping quiet now. I’m sure if they could speak, they’d try to comfort the girl. She’s the last person that needs comfort or sympathy.
“But it’s what I wanted. What we wanted.”
“It doesn’t matter. Your ages do,” the psychiatrist reminds her. “He’s lost his job at Baxter and he can’t be a sculptor anymore either.”
“What do you mean?” Larry’s blinking and looking from the psychiatrist, to Kian, her parents, back to Jesse and over again as if she can’t grasp what is going on.
“His hand’s been shattered.” The psychiatrist gestures to the bandaged and immobilized hand. “He’ll probably never get the full use back again. At least, that is what the doctor’s expect because so many bones are broken.”
Larry brings a hand up to her mouth as her eyes widen. “Oh my God.”
I think it’s finally beginning to sink in exactly the kind of damage she has caused. At least I hope it is and she’ll finally admit that she lied all along. Not that it will cure or take away any of Jesse’s injuries, but at least he won’t have to go to jail or live the rest of his life registering as a sex offender.
“Everything he had and knew is gone, Laurentia.” Kian says. “Everything.”
I sink down in a chair and wipe the tears from my eyes. Everything Kian said was true. They haven’t had a chance to repair his hand yet, or even try. They don’t want to risk another surgery and putting him under until they have a better idea of how bad his head injury is. But, they do fear that even with treatment and therapy, he’ll have limited movement, which means he can never create art again. I don’t know if he lost his job at Baxter or not, but if she doesn’t recant, he certainly will, and probably never be able to teach again.
“It’s all my fault,” Larry cries.
“No, it’s Jesse’s. He should have known better than to take advantage of you,” Kian says.
“But he didn’t,” Larry cries.
“You might not think so now, but when you’re older, you’ll realize that’s what happened,” the psychiatrist assures her, sounding sympathetic for the first time since she walked
