Chapter 18: The Weight of Testimony

Monday. 10:24 a.m.

Ryan stood outside Conference Hall B, heart pounding like a bass drum in his chest.

A thick glass door separated him from what could change everything or nothing at all.

The hearing hadn’t started yet.

But it already felt like the floor under him was about to break.

He could have stayed home. The university said attendance was optional.

But Ryan knew silence had protected Jake for too long.

He wouldn’t be part of that silence anymore.

Inside the hall, the space was sterile roundtable style, with a few faculty chairs, one legal representative from the student affairs board, and two empty seats marked “Respondents.”

Jake and Thomas hadn’t arrived yet.

Ryan took his place in the corner. Not hidden. But not centered either.

Professor Hill gave him a brief nod proud, but professional.

Across the room sat Daniel.

He wasn’t here because of Ryan. He was here because someone had to speak the truth.

And he wasn’t the only one.

10:36 a.m.

Jake arrived. Alone.

No swagger this time. No fake smiles.

Just a hoodie pulled halfway over his face and an attitude like everyone owed him something.

He didn’t look at Ryan.

Didn’t need to.

The tension between them was already a battlefield.

Thomas arrived four minutes later.

No words.

Just sat down, eyes heavy, face pale, hands folded in his lap like he knew what was coming.

Ryan wondered if Thomas had even slept.

The hearing began.

A faculty representative laid out the summary:

Multiple witness statements

Audio evidence (from the voice memo)

Behavioral reports submitted anonymously

Prior informal complaints about Jake’s conduct, some never followed up on

Jake immediately demanded to speak.

“I want to make it clear that none of this is admissible without proof. That recording? Taken out of context.”

“Would you like us to play it in full?” someone asked calmly.

Jake faltered.

Ryan didn’t speak first.

Daniel did.

He stood, voice steady but low.

“I was friends with Jake for a while. We hung out, went to parties. But I watched him isolate people  especially Ryan under the excuse of ‘protection’ or ‘intensity.’ I thought it was just a toxic relationship until I realized… it was calculated.”

A pause.

“He’d plant ideas. Twist conversations. Make Ryan doubt his own memory. I saw him do it.”

One of the board members asked, “And why didn’t you intervene?”

Daniel didn’t flinch.

“Because I was a coward. And I didn’t know how to unlearn everything I thought love was.”

The room went silent.

Ryan was asked next.

He stood slowly.

His voice shook at first then didn’t.

He described what Jake had done:

the possessiveness,

the emotional manipulation,

the voice messages,

the way Jake tried to isolate him from others.

Then he looked directly at Thomas.

“And I want to be clear,” Ryan said, “Thomas didn’t abuse me. But he enabled someone who did. He heard things he shouldn’t have ignored. And now, that’s on him too.”

Thomas didn’t raise his eyes.

Not once.

Then someone unexpected stood up.

Marcus.

Daniel’s brother.

He introduced himself as a former roommate of Jake’s at his old university, where Jake had transferred from before switching schools.

“I left our dorm because Jake made me uncomfortable. He manipulated our entire floor — got people to gang up on a guy who didn’t want to party. Spread rumors about people he didn’t like. I didn’t speak up. But when I saw what he was doing again here, I couldn’t stay quiet.”

The board took notes furiously.

Ryan was stunned. Daniel too.

Marcus didn’t speak much. But every word hit like stone.

After the testimonies, Jake refused to answer further questions.

He sat in silence, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the table.

Thomas, when asked directly, finally spoke:

“I didn’t know how to leave someone like him behind. He’s manipulative, yes. But I was scared, too. And weak. I failed Ryan. And I failed myself.”

It wasn’t a confession. Not really.

But it was something.

The hearing ended after nearly two hours.

No final decision yet  that would come later.

But Ryan didn’t care.

For once, it wasn’t about the outcome.

It was about the truth finally being heard.

Afterward, Ryan stepped outside and leaned against the building.

Daniel joined him moments later.

He didn’t say anything  just stood there, watching the clouds.

“You were brave in there,” Ryan said.

Daniel shook his head. “You were the one who showed me how.”

They stayed there in silence.

Not heavy.

Just real.

Later that night, Ryan returned to his dorm.

He opened his blog one last time.

And wrote:

*“The boy who hurt me didn’t get the last word.

The one who stayed silent had to listen.

And the one I’m still learning to trust… stood beside me while I faced them both.

This story doesn’t belong to the people who tried to steal it anymore.

It belongs to me.”*