3: 3
3
Three days later, I got the notice: take the helicopter back to shore and report to headquarters for the hearing.
By the time I reached the entrance, a crowd had already ringed the doors.
A banner hung across the front, big and loud.
"You killed my father. Blood for blood!"
"Treats lives like dirt and still wants a promotion?"
"Justice for the workers!"
A handful of livestreamers held up their phones, spitting at their own screens as they talked.
"Guys, the bitch who got two men killed is about to show up."
"Word is she's got connections. She's even up for a promotion right now."
"Today we're gonna see if she's got a shred of shame left!"
The second I stepped out of the car, every lens swung toward me.
Someone shouted,
"She's here!"
"That's her, that's the woman!"
"Two lives and you've still got the nerve to show your face!"
"Beat her to death! Make her pay with her own!"
"Dressed all sharp to come to a funeral?"
I had on a black jacket over a white shirt.
I'd put it together for the hearing.
Now it looked like I'd already been dressed for a guilty verdict.
Someone threw a bottle of water at me.
"Get out here and kneel!"
"Scum! You know Old Bruce just got his bonus and was about to retire? You know young Julian's wife is pregnant, due any day?"
Paul James stood at the very front of the crowd.
Early thirties, eyes burning red from too many sleepless nights, a photo clenched in his hand.
The old man in the picture wore his work uniform, smiling with an honest, easy warmth.
I only found out later that Bruce had put in over twenty years on the rig.
That night he'd just been covering a shift for a sick apprentice.
Paul rushed at me and the security guards caught him.
"Virginia Simmons!"
His voice was so raw it hardly sounded human.
"My father was fifty-seven. He was retiring next year.
"You left a depressurization step out of your report, and the second they opened that pipeline, he was gone!
"And you still want to make supervisor? You think you deserve it?"
The comment feed in the streams went wild.
"Fire her!"
"Two lives for one of hers is a bargain!"
"Is she trying to pull strings and bury the whole thing?"
"Come on, families of the dead, don't back down!"
Rodney Sanchez was there too.
He stood at the edge of the crowd, his face drawn.
A streamer pushed a phone toward him.
"You're her fiancé, right? What do you make of all this?"
Rodney dropped his head and stayed quiet for a few seconds.
"I only want the truth found as fast as possible. Whatever the outcome, I won't cover for anyone because of personal feelings."
So fair.
So decent.
One line and he'd cleared himself completely, while planting me squarely on the wrong side of everyone.
Trudy Fox came out of the crowd on my stepmother's arm, her eyes rimmed red.
"Paul, please don't do anything rash! We trust the investigation team!"
Then she turned to me.
"Ginny, if you really did nothing wrong, then explain it clearly. Don't let everyone misunderstand you."
It sounded perfectly reasonable.
But her eyes kept drifting toward Paul's chest.
I saw it too.
His jacket bulged over a hard, jagged shape.
His hand shifted, and the iron head of a crowbar showed for half a second.
The blood in me went to ice all at once.
The thing the feed had been screaming for was right here in front of me.
Just then, another line drifted across my vision.
【*Don't back down. Back down and they'll say you're guilty.*】
I looked at Paul.
His fury was real.
His pain was real too.
But someone had turned him into a blade.
Rodney stepped forward, all concern.
"Ginny, why don't you go inside first? Don't provoke the families."
I turned my head to look at him.
"Who did I provoke?"
Something flickered in his eyes.
Trudy choked up on cue.
"Ginny, this isn't the time to argue over who said something harsh.
"Two people are dead. The least you could do is say you're sorry."
The crowd went off like a bomb.
"You hear that? Even her own sister can't stand to watch!"
"An apology's worth shit! Get on your knees and bow your head!"
"Two lives and she's still this arrogant. Not human. An animal!"
Paul wrenched one arm free of the guard.
"Get down on your knees!"
His right hand went inside his jacket.
I didn't wait any longer.
I pulled a stack of files out of my bag and held them up high.
"I won't kneel!"
"Because the person who killed Bruce and Julian Dickerson isn't me!"
