“Kerry, I don’t know if you should—”
“Well, why did you call me then?” Kerry saw no reason to prolong the conversation after Elsa had named the hospital. She disconnected the call and walked into the bedroom where Vivien had woken despite her best efforts. Kerry took a moment to sit on the side of the bed.
“More bad news.”
“Yeah.”
“You have to go?”
There was only one answer to that question, and they both knew it. “I hate to leave you alone, especially tonight, but…I don’t understand what happened. She was supposed to be safe. I gave her the form, and she said she’d fill it out and…she might die.”
“Go,” Vivien said. “I’m okay.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I’ll see you at the town hall, at the latest.” They shared a quick embrace, and moments later Kerry was in her car, her mind still reeling from the news. Part of her wanted to take the quick and unfair shortcut, why didn’t Vincent take the way out when she had one?
She had to remind herself though that a few hours ago, she and Vivien had sat in that doctor’s office, speechless at the hate and self-righteousness thrown in their faces, thinly disguised as belief. At no point in that conversation had either of them been physically threatened. The woman wasn’t a friend or a family member, so why should they care?
Being told that you didn’t count, that you weren’t worth enough, repeatedly, harmed a person, especially when you didn’t have a supportive network. The only person to blame was Rob Brenner, and Kerry wished she could get her hands on him.
At the hospital, she met Elsa’s partner whose grim expression told her more than she wanted to know. He looked tired.
“This time, there’s no way he’s getting out of it,” he said. “I’m not even sure if that’s any consolation.”
Through the window, she could catch a glimpse of Joanie Vincent hanging on by a thread. “Did you get a chance to talk to her at all?”
He shook his head. “She was unconscious when we got there. Look, I’m thinking what the Greenes do is a good idea for women like her, but they should get started already. The longer they wait, the more time it gives jerks like him.”
“Why are you saying this?” Kerry had the bad feeling that there was something to this horror story she didn’t know yet.
He turned away from her, facing the woman in the hospital bed as he gave the answer. “Bastard found one of those forms. He tore it up and made her eat part of it. After everything else, that is.”
Her hand went to her mouth before she could stop it. Within the circle of their friends and family, she and Vivien had long written off people who claimed Morten Harris objectively reported the news, or that Miller was a welcome change for the state. Admittedly, they had laughed about them, because the alternative would be lots of crying, but this was where destructive polemic and paranoia led. Never mind the fact that Brenner would have gone with just any excuse to assault Joanie. He had been given one by the regular women haters, but he would probably claim that it was Exodus that made him do it.
Perpetrators like Brenner were textbook material for the Hate Crimes unit that would not see the light. She dared another look at Joanie whose face was barely recognizable. Kerry was well aware how important it was to respect the boundaries of someone who had all of them violently overrun, but there was a point when that person’s life was on the line and intervention wasn’t just an option. She had been so sure that Brenner would be behind bars long enough for Joanie to get to sunny California.
Kerry would do whatever it took to get her there, and she would wait for her to wake up, just to be on the safe side, no matter if she had to wait all night, or come back after work. If she missed this town hall meeting, there would be other opportunities.
Joanie Vincent might not have so many more chances.
“Would you like a coffee? I could go get us some from downstairs. No, you don’t have to answer that. Milk or sugar?”
“As black as you can get it. Thank you, Rivers.”
“No problem.”
The short walk along the hallway, down some stairs, to the vending machine and back helped clear her thoughts. She could call Hilary, get another form, fill it out with Joanie when she was better. She’d have her sign it and let Marc and Hilary take care of the rest. They might not be able to save every single person, but they had a chance with Joanie.
It had taken her less than ten minutes to get the coffee and return with two paper cups. Kerry nearly dropped them when she saw the hectic activity in Joanie’s room.
“What’s going on there?”
“I don’t know…some sort of complications. We have to wait for the doctor.”
“Damn it!” She couldn’t hold back the curse.
“When we got into her apartment…Frankly, I was surprised she made it this far.”
Kerry refused to hear what he was saying. She managed to stay in denial only for a bit longer, when the coffee had long grown cold and she stubbornly repeated the vision of getting Joanie settled into one of those lovely apartments they’d seen only yesterday.
Eventually, the doctors and nurses filed out of the room, their expressions tired and grim.
No.
“I’m sorry, but there wasn’t much we could do,” the doctor said. “Ms. Vincent’s injuries were too severe.”
Kerry was staggering, or at least it felt that way to her, as if she was the one who’d been hit, over and over again. The next words vanished, and so seemed the air in this hallway.
“Excuse me.”
She walked, trying to walk away from the dire reality and the guilt, but to no avail. Joanie had trusted her. She had failed her, with disastrous results. Kerry found a restroom and locked herself in the stall, leaning back against the wall. She couldn’t do this now. Soon, she’d have to be back at work, with a narrow window between the end of her shift and the beginning of the town hall meeting.
Kerry pressed her hand against her mouth, having a quiet, private meltdown. The person who had just opened the door to the restroom was not supposed to hear anything of. Sure, no one would think twice about someone crying in a hospital, but that wasn’t the point. She was supposed to protect. Tasha. Joanie.
Vivien.
Kerry straightened, took a deep breath before she unlocked the door, and went to the sink, where she washed her face and bound her hair back into a ponytail. She would give Joanie the respect she deserved and mourn her, but first they had to catch Rob Brenner who had just turned from an abusive jerk into a murderer.
* * * *
It wasn’t like they had been bored before Miller came along, but he sure kept them busy. Marc had approved some informational material they would bring to the town hall regarding another regulation that had been hiding in the blanket bill that Miller had managed to ram through.
Next thing they knew, the coverage of employer-provided health insurance for contraception was no longer a given. Every single male in Miller’s administration had approved the measure, along with a couple of women, either not of child-bearing age, or wealthy enough to afford their own. Technically, female employees were now supposed to ask for that coverage. While Hilary had been busy with the preparation of tonight’s meeting, the first to inform the general public in person, Marc had been on the phone with business partners and lifting a new campaign off the ground: None of our Business.
Never mind the fact that there was simply no time in their busy every day lives, or those who hired for Greene Industries, to snoop in people’s private issues—they didn’t care to do so.
Marc and Aimee, together with their marketing department, had come up with a simple, but hopefully effective, solution. A short flyer was supposed to inform employees that none of the companies joining the campaign intended to ask these questions in the future, or change any existing contracts.
Sooner than she would have liked, it was time to go. In a perfect world, they would have done all thi
s before anyone had access to the website or application forms, but thanks to Lemon, the order of events had been turned upside down. Hilary shook her head to herself. If it had been Lemon’s intention to cause chaos, he hadn’t been as successful as he might have hoped. They had adjusted quickly. Governor King was on their side, and so were Kerry and Vivien. Hilary was fairly optimistic, despite the barrage of misinformation and lies that had already come over the airwaves and other media. The people to whom this mattered, knew better.
She was still taken aback when she saw the small group holding up signs outside the town hall.
“We love our home and our familis. We stay.”
“The future is here at home.”
“Exodus=empty promises”
“Exodus kills”
The latter seemed to be part of the group that had given Vivien so much trouble. Aimee, who was riding with them in the car, looked disgusted.
“They have the right to do that,” Hilary reminded her. “Even if your opinion is based on fantasy rather than reality, well, you can plaster it on a piece of carton—typos and all.”
The closer they got though, it became obvious that those who protested the project angrily, were in the minority. People were lining up to get inside almost around the block, and some of them had signs too. “Thank you” “Make a difference #Exodus” That made her smile. When she and Kerry had come up with the concept in the first place, smartphones and Twitter hadn’t been a thing. All the better. She had seen accounts like @ExodusRocks and @Women4Exodus pop up. Of course, there were those who were against it as well. She didn’t have a lot of time to follow their confrontations in depth, but the conversation they had hoped for was clearly underway.
The buzz in the crowd quieted after they took the stage. Taking in the number of people who had gathered tonight, Hilary couldn’t help but feel winded and exhilarated at the same time. It was happening, everything they had dreamed of—she, Marc, and Kerry and Vivien as well.
She spotted Dana Martin who sat together with the intern and another woman from the center, Julia. No sign of Kerry or Vivien yet. Hilary wondered if Kerry might bring the office worker she had talked about. In one corner stood a grim-looking young man with a sign that said “Rats leave the sinking ship.”
“Nice,” she murmured, directing her gaze to the group of girls with flashy T-shirt that said Exodus. More signs. “Bye-bye, Miller.” “My choice: Exodus”. “Love. Respect. Choice.”
Marc went to speak first and Hilary would be up next. Would the man with the rat sign have a question for her?
“Good evening. Thank you for joining us tonight. This is more than we expected…” No kidding. “…but be assured that we have room for many more. In the days since the Exodus website has been launched, many of you already had the chance to sign up, but there have also been questions and concerns raised. We hope to answer all of them tonight.”
Thunderous applause cut off Marc’s words. Hilary cast a quick glance to the man in the corner. He still stood unmoving, holding up his sign with grim determination.
She saw many employees that had been in screening talks, Jerome and Sunny, Nathan and Oliver, Sonia and Taylor. It would all work out. They would build the foundation of a safer and fairer world. She had never been prouder of the people who worked with them, sharing their ethics and vision of a better future for more than themselves.
Finally, she saw Vivien and Kerry walking in. Judging from their body language, it hadn’t been a good day. With their respective line of work, the bad news kept coming since the day Miller had taken office.
“Thank you. Before Hilary gives you a little background about why we’re decided to go ahead with this project, why we are doing it, and what we strive to achieve—there’s just one more thing I’d like to share with you. We’ve been thrown another little curveball here, but this one will be easy to take care of. You may have heard of yet another regulation that is nothing but a blatant attempt to undermine reproductive freedom. Technically, from this week, you’re supposed to have your employer’s permission to get contraception on your insurance plan. You’ll have to prove you need it for medical purposes.” He held up the impromptu made flyer, with an impressive list of names. “On this list, you’ll find the names of our partners all across the country. When you go home later, you can take one of those with you, tell a friend about it, start a conversation, make sure the word gets out. We say no to this ridiculous idea. It’s overreach and invasion of privacy, and in short, none of our business.” More applause.
It was Hilary’s turn.
Her eyes met Kerry’s, and for a moment, she was transported back to a classroom, with a teacher and other students whose jaws were dropping in the course of the presentation.
In the present, most people had made up their minds. She didn’t care about being called a rat when she knew they weren’t saviors, just a handful of people who wanted to do the right, sensible thing and had the means to do so.
“Good evening,” she said. “I can’t tell you how grateful and amazed we are about the response to our project. Yes, it’s a big undertaking, and there are a lot of details to consider I’ll talk to you about tonight, about how we’re going to do this. I’m aware though there has been a lot of information in the media, some right, some wrong, which might make you wonder why we are doing this in the first place. At Greene Industries, we have a clear philosophy which already determines what businesses we work with and where we put our focus in the daily work. If you go to our website, you can see what we are doing for employee and customer satisfaction, and which causes we are involved with. All of this is no secret—so why moving to a new place? I’d like to show you something—and I’m warning you, those numbers aren’t easy to stomach, but they will give you an idea as to why what we did so far is not enough anymore.”
She had chosen a simple white on black for her power point presentation—the numbers would speak for themselves. Hilary hadn’t included any graphic pictures in her presentation as there were children in the room. They had encouraged parents to bring them, because making it harder on families was certainly not something they were trying to do.
“We know what works,” she said. “Fairness, equality, safety. Those are not empty terms, but necessary conditions for a happy, healthy life. This is what we are going for, because currently…we are far from that.” The following slides were mere statistics, on rape, domestic violence, inequality in the workplace, and poverty. The room grew quiet with those daunting facts told in black on white figures.
“Those numbers are not secret. They are available to anyone who does the research, which, of course, includes our state legislature. Still, we heard the lieutenant governor say this, and I quote, ‘With any accusation of rape, there’s always a he said-she said situation. If she becomes pregnant--something that hardly ever occurs, there’s a bright side. We get to save an unborn child.’ That, of course, was with regard to his stance on reproductive rights, something he thinks you don’t have.” Her voice was firm, no tremble, but Hilary saw the anger she felt reflected in many faces. “There could be a bright side to rape, according to the lieutenant governor. Think about that. Think about the implications and the consequences. No suffering on a woman’s part is reason enough to grant her the right to an abortion, and of course, why would we believe her in the first place? Never mind that there is something wrong with the idea we grant a person autonomy over their body only if they have suffered enough. Even some of our more moderate politicians have danced around the subject. Where will all of that end, if we determine that a woman’s testimony is simply not that relevant, that her rights are not as relevant? What are we teaching our children? We have simply decided that it’s enough. We want to empower families, committed loving couples, and children who grow up in a fair and respectful atmosphere. Everyone who believes that those numbers I showed you are the reflection of something that’s horribly wrong is welcome to help create this atmosphere. Once upon a time, my best friend and
I came up with an idea that sent some shock waves through our college class—that we could at some point end rape culture, and the war on women that had not yet be named as such. That we could end it not only by fighting against the status quo, but offering another way. Today, we have the chance, and it’s not just us. Hundreds of you came here tonight because you thought we can do better. Let’s do it!”
The man with the rat sign looked like he had swallowed something bitter. There were a few doubtful looks, mostly hopeful agreement though. She sought out Kerry and thought she found something in her friend’s gaze that prompted her to go off script. Kerry might not be too happy about it, but Hilary had the impression this was something she deserved, the full credit for a revolutionary idea. “Before we start answering your questions, I’d like to ask my friend Detective Kerry Rivers on stage, because without her, none of this could have happened.”
The surprise was showing on Vivien’s face. She seemed reluctant to let go of Kerry who straightened her shoulders, and, without hesitation, walked up the stage. Up close, she looked tired, making Hilary wonder what had happened in the days they hadn’t talked, and if they had made their final decision. They’d have to make some time tonight.
“I was afraid you’d do that,” she said. “I don’t have a speech prepared or anything—but I’d like to say a few words if you don’t mind.”
Hilary nodded. “Go ahead.”
She watched Kerry adjust the microphone and take a moment to gather her thoughts.
“There is something that sets Greene Industries apart from most multi-billion-dollar companies. In fact, I can’t think of any other that would have the guts to do this. As most of you know, they write feminist ethics into their business philosophy. If you know Marc and Hilary, or work with them, you know those aren’t empty words. Somehow, the word feminism always sparks a lot of anger and mockery, and often enough, the question ‘why are you so angry?’ I want to tell you about someone I met just days ago. Like all of us, she had plans and dreams, maybe join this exciting new project that will literally change the world. Like you. She might have come to this meeting, but Joanie Vincent is dead.” The impact of her words reached almost everyone, except rat man who didn’t back down. A shocked gasp echoed through the audience as Kerry held up a photograph of a smiling woman, early thirties maybe. Hilary suppressed a shudder. No wonder her friends had been this subdued.
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