Page 64 of Final Drive

That lands harder than I expect it to.

I’ve spent most of the night building the cleanest path through this. Evidence, witnesses, university procedure, escalation if the first route fails. It’s what I’m good at. Give me enough information and enough time and I can usually find the next move.

None of that makes the next move mine.

Gray turns from the window. He’s still pale, but the shock is gone. What’s left looks a lot more dangerous.

“What do you need?”

“If Reese wants to file, we help her put it together. Jackson writes down exactly what he saw last night while it’s fresh. Somebody needs to ask Sophia whether she’s willing to give an official statement.”

“I’ll ask her,” Gray says. “I owe her that.”

“Are you sure? Given the history⁠—”

“She should hear from me that I didn’t know. That I’d never have.” He stops and swallows. “She’s owed an apology for what he did to her using my name.”

It’s the right call, and it’s going to cost him.

“What about Kinsley?” Zane asks.

“Same complaint if Reese wants it that way, or separate reports with connected facts. The footage, the harassment, the information she fed Quinton. We document all of it and let the university decide how they want it filed.”

“And if they won’t do anything?” Bo asks.

“Then we make noise.” Jackson comes off the wall. “This ends. He doesn’t get to keep doing it to people.”

Nobody answers immediately. I watch them turn it over, looking for holes, finding some and accepting the rest.

“If this goes forward,” I say, “Reese has to be the one to file.”

“Then Reese gets to decide whether she files.”

Her voice comes from the doorway.

Every head turns. She’s standing there in sleep clothes with her hair still flat on one side, and from the way she’s looking at us, she’s been listening long enough to understand more than I wanted her to hear without context.

“Somebody want to tell me about Sophia?”

Gray crosses to her and stops short of touching her. “Reese. I didn’t know. I swear to you I didn’t know what he did.”

“I believe you.” She looks past him at me. “You found all this last night?”

“Tyler did most of it,” Jackson says. “I got lucky with the timing.”

She nods, looking the way she does on the water when she’s running the numbers on a race she hasn’t decided how to win yet.

“Title IX,” she says. “You think it works?”

“I think it’s the best chance at stopping him without one of us catching an assault charge.”

Her mouth twitches. “You’re worried about assault charges?”

“Gray and Jackson both have the look.”

“I’m right here,” Gray mutters.

“And I’m not wrong.”