Chapter 2 - February 18Katherine remembered the rain before she remembered the impact.
It had been one of those February storms that made the parking lot shine black beneath the security lights.
She had stayed late grading scholarship essays.
At 5:42 p.m., she left through the faculty entrance carrying a leather bag and a stack of folders under one arm.
Five minutes later, she was on the pavement.
In the hospital, doctors told her she had a fractured tibia, a fractured ankle, and ligament damage.
The vehicle had clipped her hard enough to spin her sideways but not run over her.
Lucky, everyone said.
Katherine hated that word.
The driver fled.
Security cameras caught only a partial image because rain blurred the lens.
Silver-gray SUV.
Right rear light damaged.
No readable plate.
Now Officer Vega sat across from Katherine in Principal Morgan’s conference room.
The gift box rested sealed on the table.
Hailey had been moved to another office with Counselor David Ortiz.
Andrew Brooks had not yet arrived.
“You don’t have to watch anything today,” Vega said.
Katherine stared at the box.
“I’ve spent six weeks wondering.”
“I know.”
“Open it.”
Principal Morgan asked, “Are you sure?”
“No.”
Katherine looked at her.
“But open it.”
Officer Vega photographed the box first.
Then the ribbon.
Then the envelope.
Chain of custody.
Procedure.
Katherine appreciated every boring second.
Vega lifted the lid.
Inside lay a black key fob bearing a Mercedes emblem.
A folded repair invoice.
A small USB drive.
And a clear evidence bag containing a broken piece of red plastic.
Katherine stared.
“What is that?”
“Part of a taillight,” Vega said.
“From the vehicle?”
“We haven’t confirmed yet.”
Katherine looked at the repair invoice.
BROOKS FAMILY HOLDINGS — 2024 MERCEDES GLS
Rear passenger-side body damage.
Broken taillight assembly.
Scraped bumper.
Repair date: February 20.
Two days after the accident.
Customer explanation:
Collision with concrete parking barrier.
Signed:
Andrew Brooks.
Katherine closed her eyes.
“He paid for it.”
“He says Hailey told him she hit a barrier while backing up.”
“Did he ask where?”
“We’ll ask him formally.”
Principal Morgan looked sick.
“I knew Andrew donated to the school, but I had no idea about any vehicle repair.”
Katherine turned.
“Why does his donating matter?”
Morgan hesitated.
“It may not.”
“Then don’t say it.”
“You’re right.”
Katherine was learning how quickly assumptions entered a room once a powerful name appeared.
Andrew Brooks owned Brooks Development Group, one of the largest construction firms in the county.
He had donated the scoreboard for Westbridge’s football field, funded a scholarship program, and served on the school foundation.
Hailey never let anyone forget it.
Officer Vega connected the USB to an isolated police laptop.
“There are three files.”
The first was vehicle telematics.
The Mercedes left the Brooks residence at 4:58 p.m. on February 18.
It entered Westbridge property at 5:31.
At 5:47, the vehicle recorded a sudden braking event.
Then a collision sensor.
Then acceleration.
Katherine’s throat tightened.
The car left school grounds at 5:49.
The second file was a cloud-synced dashboard recording.
The screen went dark for several seconds before footage appeared.
Rain.
Windshield wipers.
The school parking lot.
Katherine gripped the wheelchair armrests.
Officer Vega paused.
“You still want to continue?”
“Yes.”
The SUV turned into the staff lane.
A voice spoke from inside the car.
Female.
Young.
“Hailey, slow down.”
Katherine stared.
Another voice answered.
“I’m fine.”
Hailey.
Clear.
Unmistakable.
Then a phone notification sounded.
The vehicle drifted slightly.
The passenger shouted:
“Watch out!”
Katherine appeared in the headlights.
The camera jolted.
Someone screamed.
Then Hailey’s voice:
“Oh my God.”
The SUV stopped.
For three seconds.
Four.
The passenger said:
“We have to get out.”
Hailey was breathing hard.
“No.”
“What?”
“No, no, no.”
“We hit her!”
“I know!”
“Call 911.”
Then Hailey said the sentence Katherine would remember longer than the impact.
“If my dad finds out I took the car, I’m dead.”
The vehicle accelerated.
Katherine looked away.
Officer Vega stopped the video.
Nobody spoke.
Principal Morgan covered her mouth.
Katherine stared at the flowers still visible through the office window where Ben had placed them on a chair.
Six weeks.
Six weeks of physical therapy.
Surgery.
Pain medication.
Learning to transfer from bed to wheelchair.
Fear crossing parking lots.
And Hailey had known.
Not merely suspected.
Known.
The door opened.
Andrew Brooks entered with an attorney.
He looked older than Katherine remembered.
His eyes went immediately to the laptop.
“You watched it.”
Katherine looked at him.
“You signed the repair invoice.”
Andrew’s face crumpled.
“I didn’t know.”
“You didn’t ask enough.”
“No.”
His answer came instantly.
“I didn’t.”
Hailey’s voice rose from the hallway.
“Dad!”
Andrew closed his eyes.
Katherine watched him.
He had brought the evidence.
But he had also paid to erase the physical damage before asking why it existed.
Both facts could be true.
Then Officer Vega spoke.
“There’s a third file.”
Andrew looked confused.
“I only saw two.”
Vega turned toward the screen.
“The USB contains one more recording.”
Katherine’s stomach tightened.
“From when?”
Officer Vega checked the timestamp.
“Three days after the accident.”
She opened it.
The video did not come from the car.
It was a screen recording.
A group chat.
And the first message on the screen was from Hailey Brooks.
Reed won’t remember the car. She barely saw anything. Everybody needs to shut up.
Katherine stared.
May you like
Hailey had not only fled.
She had begun managing witnesses.
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